


you played it back

by rumpledlinen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Office, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, M/M, POV Liam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:43:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 87,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rumpledlinen/pseuds/rumpledlinen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know,” Liam says, closing his eyes. Louis’ hand on his wrist is the only thing keeping him grounded and he turns his hand over, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s, like, the one.” He feels silly even as he says it but he can’t help the worry laced through his words.</p><p>“Yeah?” Louis asks, so, so gentle.</p><p>Liam nods, and he turns his face to press his lips against Louis’ shoulder. “I mean—this can’t be the happiest I’ll ever be,” he says, small and sad. “Can it? She’s not the only one that could ever love me. Right?” Desperately, he needs to hear it. “If I left her, would anyone else want me?” It’s not a question of him loving somebody else, but of somebody else loving <i>him</i>.</p><p>The grip on his wrist tightens, but only for a moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you played it back

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so. this is a very loose "the office" au. liam and louis are pam and jim; nick is michael; harry is dwight? sort of. (he's a farmer. that's about it.) 
> 
> get ready for these notes to be ONE MILLION WORDS LONG. 
> 
> first of all, ONE MILLION THANKS to my beta, dicktective, who took this fic when it was a tiny scene and helped me blow it up to the 90K monster that it is. i'm pretty sure if i went far back enough in my gchat, every good idea about this fic would have been hers (like, from the THING THAT THE COMPANY THEY WORK FOR DOES to the INCLUSION OF FIVE SECONDS OF SUMMER). also, she fixed all of my glaring mistakes. ♥♥♥♥♥ THANK YOU LOVE YOU. THIS IS ALSO YOUR FIC. 
> 
> second of all, there's definitely some emotional infidelity in this fic. i tagged it, but i wanted to add it here. as well, there's some slight physical cheating (kissing, i mean kissing). 
> 
> third of all, i tagged only endgame ships. ships that aren't endgame: liam/danielle, louis/niall, and mentions of louis/eleanor.
> 
> the BEAUTIFUL mix made by applejackoutlaw is [here](http://8tracks.com/littledearheart/time-moved-too-fast). :D

Louis tosses an M&M into his mouth. “You know what we haven’t done in a while?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

Liam covers the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand. “Worked?” 

Louis throws an M&M at Liam’s head. “This is almost as big an injustice as that time Nick tried to get you to race your turtles,” he says, and Liam tunes him out.

Liam glances away from Nick’s planner, and "Yes," Liam says into the phone. "I'll make sure Nick doesn't cancel the appointment again, don't worry." The man on the phone yells at him and Liam rubs his eyes and says, keeping his voice pleasant, "Yes, he does this with everyone — no, sir, it's nothing against you at all. He's just a very busy man." He lets out a sigh of relief when the man gives in, and writes the appointment down with about a dozen exclamation marks. 

" _Liam_ ," Louis says. He snatches the pen out of Liam’s hand and pokes him with it. 

Liam looks up, eyebrows raised. "Sorry. What's that then?" 

Louis rolls his eyes and drums his hands on the desk. “We haven’t gone out together in _literal_ ages.” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

Liam gives him a supremely unimpressed look and goes back to embellishing Nick’s new appointment, underlining it twice before grabbing a highlighter. He’s cancelled with this guy, the principal of a school that had gotten confused by Liam’s description of a map (so he thought Japan and Australia were next to one another, sue him) twice now. 

Nick has to actually to go the appointment this time. Liam’s tired of getting yelled at. 

“Come on,” Louis says, and he gives Liam’s shoulder a weird little half-punch that almost doesn’t make contact with his arm. “Just you and me.”

Liam looks up at him, frowning deeper. “What about Harry?” He raises an eyebrow. They’ve never gone out just the two of them. 

Louis shrugs, eating another M&M out of the bowl Liam’s set out. He sighs, long and put-upon. “Harry’s going alcohol-free for the next month, due to some competition he’s in with Gems. Generally, I would try to break him, but he’s been fragile after Kendall turned him down and he might start crying.” He pauses, chewing. “And, y’know. Haven’t gotten to see you properly in a bit.” 

Liam laughs. “You _miss_ me? We work three meters from one another,” he says, rolling his eyes. 

“Please,” Louis scoffs. “I never said I missed you, only that we haven’t seen one another in a while. I’m just interested in the saga of your life, that’s all.” He waves a hand. “I’ll drive, anyway, and you need to get out. It’ll be nice. You don’t have to get pissed—”

“Can’t, regardless of what I want. I’ve got a bum kidney,” Liam says automatically, even though it’s not quite true anymore. It regrew itself, or something. His computer chimes with a message from Nick. _Tell Lou his hair looks stupid. Thanks. xx_ He turns to Louis, half-smiling. “Nick insulted you again.”

Louis opens his mouth and shuts it again, rolling his eyes. “Unimportant, I’ll get him back later. Right now, the only thing I care about is this: what are you gonna do tonight if we _don’t_ go out?” He steeples his fingers and stares at Liam, elbows on the counter.

He shrugs, feeling almost scrutinised. “Watch a film? Eat some pasta? I’m getting better at cooking, even Dani says.”

Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes. “That’s what you do every night, Liam. Just ‘cause Dani’s not here doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.” He shimmies his shoulders absurdly. “Unfortunately,” he adds, sticking out his lower lip, “not the sexy kind of fun. Engagement,” he says, rolling his eyes at the wall as though he’s looking at a camera. 

Liam sighs, loud, putting his face in his hands and rubbing at his eyes. “Jesus, Lou, I don’t need _her_ to have fun,” he says, and if it comes out harsher than he meant, well. It’s not his fault, really. Louis is always pulling this shit, acting like Liam can’t function like a normal human being without Danielle. “And I don’t mind staying in every night. It’s kind of nice. No threat of arrest.” It had only been once, and not a real threat of arrest so much as Louis starting an argument with a guy that turned out to be a cop. Still, though. The memory haunts him. 

Louis nods and, without warning, throws another piece of candy at Liam. It hits the spot on his forehead where his fingers aren’t touching. “Right after work,” he says sternly. “No staying after to help Nick with whatever project he’s got going. We’ll drop your car off and I’ll take you out.”

The project is designing their new logo and Nick had tempted him with pizza. He can get out of it, though: he’s terrible at that sort of thing anyway. Nick can always ask Harry, since Harry’s way better at the whole being creative thing and for some reason seems to enjoy long nights spent at the office. Liam suspects he has a thing for Nick, but he’s not asking. He’s made that mistake before. “Fine,” Liam says, looking back at him. “We’ll go out. You and me.” His voice is long-suffering. He’s always, _always_ giving into Louis, it seems. (He’s not sure he minds, really.)

Louis grins, drumming at the counter excitedly, and Liam doesn’t pretend to understand him, just raises an eyebrow and shoos him away. “If I can’t stay late, I’ve got to do my work _now_ ,” he says. “And you should, too.”

Louis waves a hand over his shoulder, which is about as much as Liam expected. 

Later, Harry walks over with a raised eyebrow and jabs a thumb toward Louis, who’s humming to himself and bouncing in his chair. “The fuck’s he so happy about?”

Liam’s about to tell him about their night out, but Harry’s doing his detox, or whatever. And besides, he likes this, how secret it feels. He doesn’t know why. Louis does strange things to him. It’s entirely possible Liam’s not the cause of Louis’ happiness, anyway. 

“Couldn’t tell you,” he says mildly, shaking his head.

Harry shrugs, and he takes a bite out of an apple. Liam’s got no idea where it came from. Harry’s always got mystery fruit in his pockets. Must be part of being a farmer, he thinks. 

“Liam!” Nick shouts from his office, and Liam groans, getting up.

*

Louis, true to his word, starts bothering him as soon as five o'clock hits. "Liam! Come on!" he shouts from his chair. He yawns but tries to hide it, grinning at Liam and cracking his back. 

Liam laughs, shaking his head and shutting his computer down. "Is the bar even gonna be open?" He’s teasing, already packing his things together. Louis is right, it’ll be really nice.

Louis gives him a look. "Liam."

“I know, I know,” he says, putting his planner in the briefcase Danielle had given him last Christmas. He bumps their hips together on his way out from behind his desk, smiling wide at Louis. “Let’s go, then. You’re driving, yeah? I’m gonna get plastered, like you told me,” he teases. 

Louis nods, grinning and rubbing his jaw, where it looks like he’s not shaved for a couple of days. “Yeah,” he says, voice distracted. 

Liam doesn’t ask, has to remind himself that it’s not his business. They’re work acquaintances, no matter how much Louis insists on them going out together when Danielle’s gone.

Liam follows him downstairs, humming to himself and Louis holds open the door for him, squeezing his arm as he goes through. Liam’s heart does a funny sort of clench, and he looks down to hide his grin. 

They drive to his flat in separate cars and he parks in the drive, leaning against the hood of his car for Louis to catch up since he’d been stopped at a light behind him. 

He gets his hand on the handle of Louis’s passenger side door and as soon as he pulls on it Louis locks the car. 

Liam makes a face and drops his arm. 

“I’m teasing,” Louis calls through the window, unlocking it. 

Liam tries to be quicker this time, but Louis still manages to get the car locked, cackling now. 

Liam tries his hardest not to crack a smile. If he lets Louis know he’s amused, they’ll be here all night. 

“Louis!” Liam shouts, exasperated, when Louis locks the door a third time on him, giggling loud enough Liam can hear it. 

“Okay, okay,” Louis says, rolling his eyes. He leans over and opens the door himself, which is good, as Liam certainly wasn’t going to try that again. “ _I_ thought it was funny, at least,” he says. 

Liam gives him a look. “Of course you did.” 

“So,” Louis says as Liam gets himself situated. “First round’s on you, seeing’s how I’m paying for petrol, and everything.”

Liam doesn’t bother arguing, leaning back against the seat and nodding as Louis starts the car. Christ, he’s tired. 

Louis is, for once, quiet on the way there. Liam’s glad; he’s got a bit of a headache. 

He leans his head against the window and looks out at the buildings. They pass the cinema where he and Dani went to see _Saw_ for the first time, after ages of her begging, and he’d gotten so scared he closed his eyes through the entire thing. He shivers at the thought. 

“You okay?” Louis asks mildly.

Liam hums and nods, still looking out the window. “That’s where we were going to get married the first time,” he says, pointing at a chapel Danielle had picked out. “Before she cancelled.” 

“Postponed, I thought,” Louis says, voice still light. 

Liam shrugs. “Same thing.” 

He relaxes for the rest of the way, closing his eyes after a while. By the time they get there, his headache has dissipated. 

They pull into a parking lot, which is basically empty. The building is dark. It looks like it hasn’t been updated in a hundred years. More, probably, Liam’s not an architect. 

Liam gives him an unimpressed look. “Here? Really?”

“If you get murdered, I’ll marry Dani for you,” Louis says with a wide grin. He pauses, and there’s a second of almost awkward stillness before he’s moving again, pushing at Liam to get out. “Come on, I’ll protect you from all the big bad people, come _on_.” He groans. “Christ, you’re slow, don’t you want to drink?”

“There’s no people to protect me from,” Liam says on a laugh as he opens the door and gets out, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Bartender’s gonna have to be the murderer, ‘m afraid. Hope he’s suitably big and bad.”

“Well, I’m afraid if he tries anything you’re on your own. He gives me shots at half-price sometimes. Ed’s an angel.” Louis opens the door, and Liam walks inside.

All right, he concedes that it’s less sketchy on the inside. It’s dark, but as though it’s meant to be atmospheric rather than from disuse, and there are a few people sat at the bar, nursing mostly-empty pint glasses. The bartender, a red-haired guy with small eyes, waves at them. “Lou! Who’s this, then?”

Liam introduces himself and shakes his hand, laughing a little. 

Ed grins, wide and happy. “You work with Louis, then?” He’s wiping down the counter in front of him and he gives Louis a look that’s incomprehensible to Liam, like there’s a joke he’s missing. 

Liam nods. “I do, yeah,” he says. 

Louis shrugs and shifts a little awkwardly. “Drinks, please?”

Ed rolls his eyes and nods, grabbing a couple beers and handing them over. “Sit anywhere you like, and for the love of god don’t spill anything this time,” he says dryly to Louis, who shrugs. 

Louis nods to a round table with high-backed chairs. "There," he says as he carries their drinks over, barely jostling them as he sets them down before he takes a seat. "Drink up, young Liam.” 

“You’re barely older than me,” Liam murmurs, but he grabs his beer, taking a sip. It’s quiet for a bit and he casts around for something to say. “Have you and Ed known each other a while?”

“Nah, just a few months. He just started working here and he listens to me when I get drunk and whinge, which is a good few times a week.” He laughs in that way Liam doesn’t understand, it either means he’s joking or he just wants everyone to think that. 

“Right,” Liam says, taking another sip. He hates beer, as a general rule, but it’s something to do. Louis is fidgeting like he always does, but it’s throwing Liam off tonight. “Why’d you invite me out today?” Liam finally asks. “Like. S’it just because you think I’m lonely? Because I’m not,” he insists. He peels at the label on his bottle. He’s not sure it’s true, but it doesn’t matter if it isn’t. 

Louis doesn’t answer, because Louis is a shit. “How’s the wedding planning going?” He leans back in his chair, hands on his stomach, bouncing his heel.

Liam shrugs. He’s usually desperate to talk about it, desperate to be married, but right now he just wants — he doesn’t know. He doesn’t want Louis to mention it, for whatever reason. He plays with the ring of condensation from his glass, not looking directly at him. “It’s going,” he says mildly. It’s not entirely a lie. 

“Yeah?” Louis says it a little gently. “Good. Was worried, there, for a while.”

Liam rubs at his eyes. _She changed the date again_ , he doesn’t say. “New topic, please.” 

“All right.” Louis kicks him under the table. “How’s the songwriting going? See you scribbling all the time.”

“I’m a receptionist, ninety percent of my job is scribbling.”

Louis snorts. “You look different when you’re writing than when you’re taking notes for Grim. Like. Your face goes all soft and your eyes go wide and —” He does a very unflattering impersonation. Liam would be offended if he hadn’t seen the way Louis looks when he’s imitating Harry.

Liam doesn’t laugh, barely manages to catch himself in time. “I’ll have to work on my poker face.”

“Nah, it’s cute,” Louis says, and breezes right past it before Liam has a chance to process the compliment. “Write anything good? Anything y’wanna let me see? Your last was very good, you know.”

“I showed you a song _once_ —”

“And I’ve not forgotten it. Which shows you how good it was.” His voice is teasing but Liam believes him, for some reason, which drives him mad. Louis and all his compliments make him dumb.

He rolls his eyes, holding the bottle tight. “What about you? Done any writing?”

“Loads. Not at work, though. I’m responsible.” Louis grins, kicking him gently under the table.

Liam gives him a flat look.

Louis hums. “Responsible enough.”

He raises an eyebrow, taking another sip. 

“Well, Nick hasn’t fired me yet.”

Liam finally cracks a smile. “Think he doesn’t want to give you severance, is what it is. Wants you to get irritated enough that you quit.”

Louis waves a hand. “He loves me. It’s one of our sticking points, considering I loathe him from his stupid quiff to his unflattering shoes.”

Liam snorts into his beer. “He _loves_ you?” He wipes off his face with a napkin, leaving it crumpled up on the table.

“Well, Harry does, at least, and that’s enough to keep me around for a while.” He grins, doing the crinkle-eye thing again. 

Liam hides his smile behind another long drink. 

They spend the next while catching up, Louis telling him all about a client who had gotten into it with her husband while Louis was on the line. “I made the sale, though.” He grins, wide and self-satisfied. “All it took was calling her husband a dick. Which he was, for the record. She was completely in the right.” 

Liam laughs. “And the commission had nothing to do with it?”

“Certainly not,” he sniffs. 

Liam barely notices as the bar fills up, only registers it when Louis leans forward and has to nearly shout to be heard over everyone around them. 

“Another round. What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

He knows he should be worried at the wicked grin Louis gives in response, but he doesn’t want another beer and he doesn’t know what’s good. He should, probably, but the only times he ever goes out are with Louis and Harry and Harry likes to order for him, get him to try various delicious drinks. 

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. His phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s a Snapchat from Danielle, a photo of her and the rest of the girls in her troupe, with the caption _miss you!!! xxxxxx_. He doesn’t respond, pockets his phone again and rubs his face. 

“This,” Louis says, setting down the drink in front of him, interrupting Liam’s thoughts, “is my favorite drink. In the world.” He pauses for emphasis and possibly a reaction that Liam doesn’t give him. “It’s named after me.” 

Liam frowns. Louis sounds disturbingly sincere, which can only mean he is or he’s trying too hard to be. Louis is a walking mystery. 

It’s not a lot of liquid, though, and it—well, it doesn’t smell terrible? He picks it up, grimacing at it. 

“Oh, come off it,” Louis says, picking up his own drink and holding it out to clink it with Liam’s. “Just take a sip. Be a man, all that.”

Liam clinks their glasses together and takes a bigger sip than he should. It — _fuck_. “That’s _disgusting_ ,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and coughing. “What the hell is that?” 

Louis grins wide, cackling. “Bit of PBR, splash of pineapple juice, and a shot of Fireball. I call it: The Tommo. Originally invented to get Harry to stop asking everyone for drink recommendations. Now, it’s my initiation into my circle of friends. I wasn’t lying, it’s my favorite drink in the world.” He grins, wicked. “Just not to actually drink.”

Liam gives him a dubious look. “So we’ve not been friends because I hadn’t tried this?” he asks, grimacing. He smacks his lips. God, it tastes sickeningly sugary and spicy at the same time. “Give me that,” he says, reaching for Louis’ drink, which is bright green. He takes a tentative sip. It tastes like Skittles. He widens his eyes. “Hang on, this is delicious. You gave me _that_ and you get this?”

Louis shakes his head. He makes a half-hearted attempt for the glass, but gives up, waving a hand. “Fine,” he says. “I’m gonna go get a drink for myself, then.”

Liam wrinkles his nose. “I want something that tastes like this, and will also get me tipsy,” he tells Louis very seriously. He hasn’t had enough alcohol for anything to have hit him and he doubts this has anything at all. He wants something that’ll affect him, though, at least a little. 

Louis mouth does that open and shut thing, where it’s like he’s about to make fun of Liam but he’s not sure if he should. Liam hates and loves that look. “I know what you can have,” he says, shaking his head. “So long as you don’t have some weird complex about only drinking hard liquor?”

Liam looks down, raising an eyebrow. “I’m drinking this—what is it?” he asks. “Tastes like candy.” 

“Midori Sour,” Louis says, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t recommend drinking it on a date, for the record, tends to emasculate. Even if you have been with her for years.”

“Right,” Liam says, not responding to the Danielle comment. “Anyway, I’m drinking this. It’s hard to fall much further.” He takes another sip to prove his point, grinning at Louis. 

Louis shakes his head, Liam can see it out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll go get you a drink,” he says. 

Liam reaches for his wallet. 

“Nope,” Louis jumps in, reaching across the table. He doesn’t actually grab anything, but the intent is clear. “I wanted to take you out and if you’re gonna get plastered, I want to see it and that’s enough of a gift for me. Also, I get drinks at half-price when I give Ed a good show.” He winks. “Only have to take off some of my clothes. Ed’s easy.”

Liam rolls his eyes, but hey, free liquor. He stays at the table, finishing the drink as he sits there. Louis brings him back a giant bowl of something bright blue, with sugar around the rim and a curly straw. He’s grinning at the thing like an idiot.

Liam… has maybe, possibly, made a mistake. “Um,” he says, and he wonders just how delicate he has to be to get Louis to not make him drink this.

“Oh, come off it,” Louis says, waving a hand. “Look, we can share it if you want. I’ll go get another glass, even, I know how your type are always so worried about germs.”

Liam is too distracted staring at the giant concoction to worry about the insults Louis is throwing at him. “Right,” he says, voice a little bit faint. 

Louis giggles, nose scrunching up as he does it. “You look terrified. You wanted something to get you drunk!” He claps Liam on the back, pointing at the drink. “Well? Better get going.”

It looks and smells like there’s enough alcohol in it that Ed may have just thrown a bit of everything in. Liam wouldn’t be surprised at all if Louis had talked him into doing just that. Liam takes a tentative sip. It — well. It’s delicious. “What is it?” he asks.

“Fishbowl,” Louis says, shrugging. “Not one of my own drinks so I don’t like to promote it — fame, fortune, and all that — but it’s good enough. Bit of rum, bit of vodka, more pineapple juice for you.” 

They talk while Liam drinks. He gets progressively dizzier throughout the night, almost falling off his chair twice before Louis rolls his eyes and leads him over to a booth instead of the high bar stools they’d been seated at. 

He gets into the booth next to Louis, resting a head on his shoulder. “You know,” Liam says, closing his eyes. Louis’ hand on his wrist is the only thing keeping him grounded and he turns his hand over, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s, like, the one.” He feels silly even as he says it but he can’t help the worry laced through his words.

“Yeah?” Louis asks, so, so gentle.

Liam nods, and he turns his face to press his lips against Louis’ shoulder. “I mean—this can’t be the happiest I’ll ever be,” he says, small and sad. “Can it? She’s not the only one that could ever love me. Right?” Desperately, he needs to hear it. “If I left her, would anyone else want me?” It’s not a question of him loving somebody else, but of somebody else loving _him_.

The grip on his wrist tightens, but only for a moment. “Liam, I think it’s time to get going,” Louis says, sounding a little — sad. Or something. Liam’s probably projecting.

He nods, groaning, and he stands up. He stumbles back, falling against the wood of the table. “Shit.”

Louis is there in a second, a hand around his waist and mouth against his ear as he holds him up. He laughs, soft. “Idiot.”

Liam tries to glare. It’s difficult to make his face listen. “You’re the one that took me out and told me to drink so much. Bought me the blue thing.” He manages to get Louis’ face in focus and shoves his shoulder. 

“Forgot you couldn’t handle your liquor.” His voice has gone louder, the sweetness from before gone. Liam’s not sure if he should be happy or upset about it.

Liam rolls his eyes, or tries to. The room goes topsy-turvy. He leans heavily on Louis.

They get into the car. It still smells like cigarettes and cinnamon and Liam turns bodily in his seat to bury his face against the headrest, breathing it in.

“The fuck are you doing?” Louis asks, sounding amused as he buckles himself up

Liam glares. “You’re not drunk.” He’s hurt. He’d thought they were in this together, that anything he did would be lessened by whatever Louis would inevitably fuck up.

Louis shakes his head. “I only had two beers.”

Liam grumbles low in his throat. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Didn’t feel like it. And you drank my other drink. It’s good, anyway, wouldn’t be able to drive otherwise.”

Liam nods, relaxing against the seat, and closes his eyes. He focuses on the jostling movements of the car, but he’s still thinking about Danielle. “I _want_ to want to marry her,” he mumbles, almost without meaning it, hand over his face. 

“Love,” Louis murmurs. “Come on.”

He wants Louis to call him _love_ in that voice all the time. “Just — isn’t it weird? First girlfriend, known her for years. Did it all proper. Still fucked up.” He mumbles it, face pressed against the window. 

Louis hums. “What’s fucked up?” he finally asks, like it’s being dragged out of him. 

“She’s always gone.” He mumbles it, squeezing his eyes shut. “Always, always, always. And it’s not gonna stop when we get married.”

“You love her, though.” It’s not a question, really, but there’s the hint of one there.

“I know.” Liam sighs. “Just. Wonder if I could love someone else more. I’ve never loved anyone else, yeah?” He looks over. Louis is shaking his head and the light from the streetlamps is so pretty on his face, even if he looks tensed up. Jesus. He stares at the line of his neck, the way his jaw is clenching slightly.

He wants to kiss him. 

He shakes his head, hard enough he feels sick, and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Glad I don’t have to work tomorrow,” he says, desperate to get his mind off of it. 

Louis nods, pulling into Liam’s drive. “Need me to help you in?” he asks, resting a hand on his arm. He’s leaning in. The car’s still on. Liam focuses on the tumbling rhythm of the motor instead of looking at him. 

He shakes his head. “I got it.” He fumbles with his keys at the door but he makes it, and leans back against the door, waiting for the sound of the car pulling back.

It takes a good minute or two, and then he slides down the wall, bone-tired. 

*

“I’m going to be single forever!” Perrie shouts as soon as she walks in, tossing her coat to the side and leaning over Liam’s desk, pouting absurdly. 

Liam gets up, a bit alarmed, and hangs her coat up for her. He offers a hug and she flings herself at him. He always forgets how strong and quick she is. “Why’s that?” he asks when he’s steadied himself, rubbing her back. 

“Because I’ve been single for ages and I’m getting too old and I should just get a thousand cats now, call it good,” she says, loud and overdramatic. 

Liam rolls his eyes toward Harry over her shoulder, still hugging her. “Shh,” he murmurs. “You will, you’ll find someone, I promise.”

“Of course you say that,” she grumbles, pulling away and crossing her arms. “You have to say that, you’ve been engaged for a million years and she’s the love of your life. Not all of us are so lucky,” she says, pouting again. “There are loads of single people but none of them want _me_.”

Liam gives her an unamused look. He knows this game, Harry used to hint at him finding someone for him in much the same way. “If I find a guy who I think you’d like,” he says in a flat voice, “I’ll set the two of you up on a date. But I think you can find someone on your—”

She waves a hand as she walks back to the Accounting section, turning her back on him. “Without assistance, I’ll be forever alone and unloved!” she shouts as she goes. 

*

“So,” Louis says, leaning over the edge of Liam’s desk after lunch that day, “taking bets on how many tacks I can get into young Harry’s hair before he notices and gives me that pout.”

Liam tries not to laugh. He really does. He manages it, too, until he turns around and there are already three stuck in the back of his bun, pointy end out as Harry shakes his head at his computer. He can’t keep his laugh in and ducks his head behind his desk when Harry looks up and goes, “Heyyyyy,” in that slow, drawn-out way he does, glaring at the two of them.

Louis is giggling as well, leaning over. He’s doing that crinkle-eyed thing again. 

Liam laughs harder. “You’re gonna hurt him,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You’re _horrible_.” 

“What’re you _laughing_ at?” Harry asks, and then, ambling over to the two of them he goes, “I’ll tell Nick,” in a voice with no heat behind it. 

Liam tries to hide a smile while Louis gives Harry a clap on the back. “Nothing at all, love.”

Harry frowns. 

Louis smirks. 

_Wonder what it’d be like to kiss him_ , Liam wonders almost idly, and — oh, _oh god_ , it’s not the first time he’s thought that. He’d jerked off in the shower the morning after their night out, hand against the wall. He hadn’t felt guilty in the moment but now it hits him and he tries not to let it show on his face, covers it with a cough that he’s sure reads as fake. 

Louis raises both his eyebrows at him. Liam shifts in his seat. 

It slams into him then, again, that he’s still very, very fit. He wants to get him on a bed and tug off his shirt, see all his tattoos and —

“You okay?” Harry asks suddenly, the hurt in his voice gone, replaced with sudden interest. When Liam looks up he’s being frowned at, Harry’s eyebrows knit together.

He nods, smiling a little. “Just the Monday blues or whatever, I s’pose.”

“It’s Tuesday,” Harry tells him, voice slow. He looks like he’s about to say something else, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish because Liam gets a call. 

“One Direction Maps!” he says cheerfully. “This is Liam.” 

“Hello, I’d like to place an order for delivery,” comes a woman’s voice, polite. 

“Sure, I can do that for you,” he says, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Just let me transfer you over to sales.” 

“I‘m sorry?” the woman says. “I just want a pepperoni pizza.” 

It takes a minute for him to realise what’s gone on, and when he does he rolls his eyes. The number for the pizza delivery across town is one digit off the company’s, so this isn’t the first time, but it’s been a bit since he’s had to do this. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You’ve got the wrong number — we don’t have pizza here.” 

“Oh,” the woman says. There’s a moment of silence. “Do you think you could get the right number for me?” 

“Sure,” he says, and rattles it off for her. He’s got it memorized by this point.

“Thanks so much!” she says, and clicks off. 

As he hangs up, he can hear light quick footsteps and — “Hi, darling,” comes Danielle’s voice. 

It startles him, but only for a minute. He grins, big, getting up to kiss her cheek. It’s cold and there are still snowflakes in her eyelashes. “You’re home early,” he says, soft. 

Danielle leans over his desk, looking at his computer screen where he’s got some article Harry sent him about the upcoming farming season up. “Changed my flight. Mind if I stay the night at yours, or should I get a hotel?” she teases.

Liam shrugs. “Dunno. I _had_ plans but I suppose I can fit you in.” He can’t stop smiling, god.

Across the office, Harry and Louis are throwing things at one another but he doesn’t pay attention to them, lets Danielle hop up on the desk and tell him all about her trip. He laughs in all the right places and when she’s through telling him the story of how her dance partner had broken his arm two weeks before the show, she gets down and sits in his lap, kissing him with a wide grin. 

“You _dick_ ,” Liam hears from across the room. He looks over just in time to see Harry dump a bag of gummi bears over Louis’ head. 

Louis, for his part, just grabs one out of his hair and eats it, pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “Don’t worry, I love you endlessly, Haz.” It makes Liam’s heart hurt, for some reason. 

Liam snorts and Harry gives him a wildly betrayed look.

Danielle grins, and she stifles a yawn, kissing him again. “I’m knackered, gonna go back and get a nap in. Dinner, though, yeah? You’ll cook?”

From his desk, Louis scoffs. It’s not aimed at him, probably, but Liam rolls his eyes quickly. He nods at her, kissing her knuckles just above where her ring sits. “Yeah,” he says. “And, after, we can talk about wedding stuff.”

She stiffens just a bit and nods, kissing his forehead. “If you want to, sure, we’ll do that. See you then,” she says, voice high. 

He frowns, but doesn’t push it. He doesn’t want to fight with her again. “Love you.”

She smiles, and this time it reaches her eyes. “Love you, too. See you.”

When Liam turns back to face his desk, Louis is watching him, careful like he’s pretending he isn’t. Liam’s gotten too used to him, knows him too well. He frowns, tilting his head, but Louis averts his gaze and starts typing something. 

He sighs, and rubs at his eyes, leaning forward. Christ, it’s only noon. 

*

It’s a Tuesday morning, and Liam’s miserable. Dani’s still back, but she’s sick and has been curled up on the couch for the better part of a week. He doesn’t mind taking care of her, but he’s been feeling under the weather as well. Something’s going around the office, he thinks. He’s not going to mention that to her, though. He’d rather her not shout at him to _not make it about himself_ , for once. 

He sneezes three times in a row into his elbow, groaning. Louis sends him a sympathetic look. Liam grimaces back and puts his head down on his desk.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, really, but next thing he knows Nick’s standing over his desk. He snaps, “Liam _Albert_ Payne, my office. Now.”

“That’s not his middle name!” Louis calls helpfully from his desk.

Liam sits up all the way, grimacing, and the look on Nick’s face gets him to wake up quick. “Shit. I — sorry, Nick.”

Nick’s expression doesn’t change. “Office.”

Liam frowns, grabbing his box of tissues and brings them with him. He sits in the chair Nick offers, the slightly less comfortable one that Liam had spent months looking through online office store catalogs to help him replace.

“Liam,” Nick says severely. “This won’t do. Falling asleep at the office while on the clock? And after _all_ those calls you’ve missed.”

Liam frowns. He’s fairly sure he’s not missed too many. “Sorry, what are you talking about?”

“Last week! Two clients told me that, not only were their calls not taken, but that the voicemail is not nearly friendly enough for a company that claims to be as people-pleasing as we do.” He shakes his head. “And I can see why! You clearly don’t care about this job, Liam.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, because he’s heard this kind of talk before and he knows what’s coming and how much Nick expects him to grovel. “I —” He cuts himself off to sneeze, hard.

Nick’s shaking his head. “Liam, this is unacceptable. I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go.”

Liam’s mouth drops open, but — Nick looks like he’s trying to hide something. He’s never been very good at hiding his amusement.

And, shit, he’s had this kind of talk before. He can’t _believe_ he’s fallen for it again. 

Nick is the absolute worst. 

“Are you kidding?” He shakes his head. “When I’m sick, Nick? Really?”

Nick bursts into giggles, covering his mouth. “Your face was priceless!”

Liam rolls his eyes, standing up. If he were more of a dick, he’d throw one of his used tissue at him. “Fake firing a man after a nap is not on!”

“Worth it,” he tells him. “Anyway, I do need you to change the voicemail message, you sound about twelve and way too over-eager. We’re not that kind of company.”

Liam rolls his eyes again. “Yeah, okay.”

Nick’s still giggling. “That was almost better than the first time, god.”

Liam throws the box of tissues at him. 

“You’re gonna fuck up my hair!” he shouts as Liam’s walking out of the office. 

Liam just shakes his head at Louis, who’s giving him a questioning look. 

“Your hair could never be fucked up,” Harry tells Nick from his desk, overeager. 

Liam sits back at his desk, and puts his head down again. His phone buzzes with a text. 

_Louis_ 13:37

_what happened?????_

He snorts, and types out a response quickly. 

_Liam_ 13:39

_fake fired me againnnnnnnn_

There’s no response and Liam covers his eyes with his hands, enjoying the quiet. A shadow comes over his desk and he groans, looking up. “Nick —” He cuts himself off abruptly.

It’s Louis, who’s got an almost excited glint in his eyes. “I can help you get him back,” he whispers. “Just give the signal.”

“What signal?” Liam asks, running his mind through all the shit they’ve said over the years. 

“You’ll know. So will I. I would have texted but I didn’t want our mission to be compromised.” Louis taps his nose, conspiratorial, and walks back to his desk .Liam tries not to smile. 

The phone rings and he groans as he answers. “One Direction Maps, this is Liam.” 

He can _feel_ Nick watching him through the blinds of his window, but he just rolls his eyes and takes the call. He has to stifle a severe cough halfway through, but he makes it. 

Nick calls him from his office the second Liam hangs up, like he’s been waiting for it. 

Liam rubs his temples and picks up the receiver again. “Yeah?”

“You’re not fired anymore.”

“Brilliant,” Liam says, as dryly as he can manage. He looks at Louis, miming shooting himself. Louis frowns and Liam nods toward Nick’s office, pointing at the phone. “Was about to apply for more jobs, glad you caught me.”

“Mmm, wouldn’t be too hasty to not. You’re on watch,” he tells him, laughing. “Gonna keep my eye on you, Liam. You might start stealing soon. Post-Its, office supplies, and before I know it you’re stealing the copier. Who knows where you might begin? Not me. I barely know you at all.”

Liam has possibly never wanted to hit Nick more. “Grim, I have a _fever_ , be nice,” he whines into the phone. It works for Harry when he’s feeling poorly and god, Liam’s feeling terrible.

Nick just snorts. He never has any sympathy for Liam, it seems. “Go home, then, if you’re that poorly.”

“Hey!” Louis shouts, getting up and snatching the receiver. “Be nice to him!” Nick says something and Louis rolls his eyes, turning to glare at him through the window. “Dick.” He slams down the phone and turns back around, staring at Liam. He presses his hand against Liam’s forehead. “You really don’t look good.”

Liam just makes a noise, doesn’t even want to tease Louis about it.

Louis frowns deeper. “I think you _should_ go home,” he says seriously. “You’re burning up.”

He shakes his head. “No.” He needs the money, can’t take any more days off than he absolutely has to.

“Please go. Before you infect us all with the flu, round two.” He smiles, but he still looks worried.

“Christ. Fine.” He gets up, shaking his head to get rid of the stuffy feeling. It doesn’t work. Louis is, possibly, right.

“Text me when you get home,” Louis says. “Y’look a bit like you’re about to die, I don’t think I trust you to drive. You want Dani to pick you up?”

Fuck. Dani. “Nah, she’s sick as well. I’m okay, Louis.”

Louis sighs, loud. “Here.” He grabs his jacket, shrugging it on, and looks at Liam. “I’ll take my break now, drive you home.”

“No, I need my car, can’t leave it overnight.”

Louis waves a hand. “I’ve done it loads of times. Just get a cab or have Dan drive you.”

“No, I mean, I won’t be able to get in tomorrow. Danielle can’t drive me, she’s got something stupid early.”

“Then I’ll pick you up,” he says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “C’mon, Liam. Last offer, I’m only stretching myself so far for you.”

“You can’t pick me up,” he says, frowning at him, still a step behind.

Louis waves a hand. “Yes, I can.” He grabs Liam’s jacket and holds it out with his eyebrows raised.

He pulls it on. “Only because I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

“The only reason I’d offer.” He makes an aborted move like he’s gonna reach out for Liam’s hand. “Come on.” He nods toward the door.

Liam nods, following him out. At the last second he grabs a packet of Post-It notes because he’s feeling poorly and Nick’s horrible. _Stealing_ , Jesus Christ. 

They drive in relative silence, Liam leaning his head against the window, the cool glass comforting. He still feels a bit like he’s gonna vomit, but he makes it through without incident. He smiles at Louis, leaning his head back against the seat. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Louis smiles a little. “Take a nap. Text me when you’re feeling better, okay? Stay home again tomorrow if you’ve got to.” He frowns, holding a hand out and pressing it against Liam’s forehead again. “And take something for that, you’re burning up.”

Liam nods and it only takes him a minute to gear himself up to get out of the car, walking toward the door. He doesn’t look back at Louis, but he hears the car pull away only after he’s inside. 

He takes some medicine and groans, cracking his back. His bedroom door is shut and he doesn’t bother going into it, flops on the couch instead, shoes and all. 

He wakes up disoriented, but there are three texts from Louis waiting for him, all variations of _you feeling better?_. He is, marginally, and he responds in kind, sitting up to do it. He groans, leaning his head forward. He feels like he’s been hit by a truck, but at least he isn’t in danger of puking every ten seconds. 

Danielle comes out of their room, wrapped in the duvet, hair a mess. She frowns. “Why’re you here?”

He shrugs, rubbing his eyes and stifling a yawn. “Went home early.”

“Why?” Her voice is flat.

“Sick,” he says, and looks up at her.

She gives him an impossible-to-decipher look and sits on the couch. She pulls the blanket down from the top of the couch and wraps it around the two of them. He hadn’t realised how cold he was and he leans into her, smiling. 

“Are you feeling better?” she asks, soft.

He shrugs. “Eh. What about you?”

“Think so. Been asleep all day, Christ.” Liam’s phone buzzes and she grabs it, raising an eyebrow. “Why’s Louis texting you?”

He shrugs, eyes shut. “Oh, he drove me home, probably wants to make sure I’m okay.” He reaches out for the phone. 

She doesn’t give it to him. “Why’d he drive you?” she asks in a weirdly suspicious voice. 

He frowns. “Because, Nick was being a dick, I think, and he didn’t feel I was okay to drive myself. Mostly wanted to get out of the office.” He tries to grab it again.

She hands it over this time. “What’d Nick do?” she asks, softer now, gentle. She gets an arm around him, rubbing his back.

He doesn’t want to fight, doesn’t mention her weird jealousy, if that’s what it is. He tells her the story and by the end of it she’s curled up against him, eyes shut. 

She snores in the middle of one of Liam’s sentences and he goes quiet, leaning back against the couch, eyes open. He doesn’t want to move and wake her. 

He thumbs open Louis’ text. 

_Louis_ 17:56

 _glad to hear it. pick you up tomorrow at 8 :)_

The emoticon makes him grin, staring at it, but after a bit he makes himself lreply.

 _Liam_ 18:01

_soundss goooooodddddddd_

He bites his lip and settles in to get comfortable, closing his eyes. 

*

Nick’s surprisingly kind to Liam when he and Louis get there the next morning, going so far as to thump his back when telling Liam he’s done a particularly good job with a client that had been shouting at him. 

Liam glances over at Louis, tilting his head, but Louis doesn’t answer, just looks at his computer resolutely.

In the middle of the day, Harry stops by Liam’s desk. “Do you have any gummi bears?” He eyes the bowl of M&M’s with distaste. 

Liam nods, grabbing him the bag where he keeps it in his bottom desk drawer. Harry grins and reaches in the bag for a handful, popping a few into his mouth. 

“So, uh,” Liam starts. “Why’s Nick being so nice?”

Harry frowns, leaning over and taking the bag out of Liam’s hands without saying anything. “What d’you mean?”

Liam frowns. “Like. He’s just been really nice to me all day. Told me I looked good, even.” 

Harry wrinkles his nose. “He always does that, though. He’s very complimentary.”

Liam’s frown deepens. “Only to you,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

He grins, wide. “Really? D’you think — hang on,” he says, going serious again. “Why wouldn’t he be nice to you, though?”

“Dunno,” he says, “it’s just weird. Yesterday he pretended to fire me.”

“That’s what Louis was going on about,” Harry says, and there’s a thump from the side of Louis’ desk, like he kicked something. 

Liam frowns, looking over at him. Louis is staring at his computer, typing furiously. It makes the booting-up noise and he goes bright red, still not looking at Liam. 

“Oh, Christ,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “So, uh.” He leans over Liam’s desk. “You really think Nick’s, like, extra nice to me?” He bites his lip, rolling a gummi bear between his fingers. He probably means it to be sexy.

Liam nods and his computer pings with an email from a client cancelling a meeting with Nick. He types out a response, almost forgetting Harry’s there.

Until — “Why do you think that is?” Harry asks when Liam’s typing dies down. He’s frowning, eating the bear, head first and then the rest. “Like. If you had to guess.” He’s looking at a red gummi bear, thoughtfully.

Liam shrugs. “Paternal loyalty toward you, because you’re so young?” He’s a little annoyed, because he’s not quite done being sick. Or maybe Louis is rubbing off on him and he actually is an arsehole. 

Harry nods, shoulders slumping a bit like he’s deflated. “Oh. Right. I. Yeah.” He leaves the desk with a small tap, carrying the bag of bears with him. 

Liam would call him back but he’s too tired, still feels a bit groggy from the day before. He puts his head down. 

*

“Take that back!” Fiona shouts. 

Liam looks up over at Accounting from where he’d been reading a magazine Danielle’s been featured in. 

Fiona’s got her hands on her hips, glaring up at Nick. Jade’s head is on the desk and Nick looks exceptionally guilty. 

“Stop that,” Fiona insists. “She’s trying her hardest and she doesn’t need you yelling at her when you don’t know how to do your _own_ job!” 

Nick works his mouth a few times. “You can’t — that’s not — you’re not supposed to talk to me like that,” he says, but it’s weak. 

Louis snickers and Liam catches his eye, grinning. 

“I can,” she says, crossing her arms and stepping back. “Especially if you’re going to be an arse to us because you forgot to get the forms in on time.”

Leigh-Anne nods her agreement, rolling her chair over and rubbing Jade’s back. 

Nick grimaces, shoulders dropping. “Fine,” he says. “It was my fault, you’re right.”

“Apologise,” Fiona insists, arms still crossed. 

Nick pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, Jade,” he says, voice dripping with irritation.

Jade sits up and nods, wide-eyed. “Yep,” she says, looking at her keyboard and scooting closer to Leigh-Anne, hiding her face inher shoulder. 

Nick walks away, catching eyes with Harry and nodding toward his office. Harry goes, frowning at Liam when he walks by his desk. 

Fiona sits back down, looking around at the rest of the room. She nods curtly at Liam, and turns around, getting back to work, back straight and feet crossed at the ankles. She’s always been protective of her girls. 

Liam sighs, and gets back to reading. Danielle looks really beautiful, he thinks a little wistfully. 

*

Danielle comes in to the office one day, just as the weather’s changing, with a stack of folders and papers, hair a mess. 

“When’s your lunch break?” she asks. “Or, rather, can it be now? I’ve only got an hour and a half left and I’d like to go over this stuff.” She sets the folders on his desk.

He frowns, fingers stilling on the keys. “What is it?”

“Wedding plans. We’ve still got to decide about food and a band and I’ve finally picked out my dress but I have to make an appointment to get it fitted properly, and —”

“Okay,” he interrupts quickly. They have a lot to plan, he knows that. “Give me five minutes and then we can. Here?”

She shrugs. “Was thinking we could go out, but that works, too.” She’s irritated, voice coming out cutting. She grabs her folders and heads to the break room. 

He ignores her tone and finishes up, following her and trying to keep his thoughts pleasant.

“I want everything to be bright colors,” she says as soon as he walks in, handing him a stack of papers, all presumably pictures. He gives her half his sandwich and looks through them, letting her talk.

Liam bites his lip when she mentions making the chocolate fountain pink. “I was actually thinking about it and maybe we could go softer? Silver, or something?”

She rolls her eyes. “We can talk about it later,” she says, looking at the door where Harry’s just come in.

When she turns back to write something down, Harry makes a face at him. 

Liam snorts.

“Sorry?” Danielle says, raising an eyebrow. 

Behind her, Harry makes a face at the orange juice he’s just taken a drink of. Liam can’t stifle another giggle. “Nothing,” he gets out.

Danielle laces her fingers together on top of the folder, jaw set. “Liam, this is serious. We need to get this done. Now, preferably.”

“I know. I just. I’m sorry,” he says, still laughing. He must be nervous, he thinks. “I’m sorry, I’m taking this seriously, really.” Harry’s stopped what he was doing but Liam can’t help himself from giggling. 

She slams the folder shut. “You haven’t been helping at _all_ with this wedding, Jesus. It’s coming up in six months and I’m doing everything. I don’t know why I bother asking for your help.” She gets up, and stomps out of the room. He can hear the clicking of her heels on the way out. 

He puts his head down on the table, overwhelmed.

Harry comes and sits in the chair she’d just left. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks, taking some of Liam’s crisps.

He shakes his head, and then nods. “I have no idea,” he finally admits.

Harry laughs, soft. “I’ll sit here for a while. ‘m not doing anything anyway.”

Liam snorts. “How do you keep your job?”

“Nick and I are mates. Like this,” he says, holding up two crossed fingers. “Soon to be more? Only time will tell.” He lets the fingers drift apart and drops his hand.

“Well, I’m rooting for you,” he says, grateful for the distraction.

“Thanks,” Harry says. It sounds like he means it. “Wish Louis were here. He’d be able to cheer you up.”

Liam shrugs. “He gets weird when I talk about Danielle sometimes.” He considers his words for a minute before continuing. “I don’t think he likes her very much.” He winces. “But don’t tell him I said that, please?” 

“Of course he does,” Harry says, entirely unconvincingly.

“You’re a shit liar.”

He shrugs, chewing the crisps thoughtfully. “I mean. It’s not any of his business, you know? And anyway he only sees the two of you at work. I’m sure things are better at home.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want to explain that, actually, everything is worse than at work. That neither of them bother to keep up appearances, that both of them have been mad enough to sleep on the couch in the past two weeks, just about as long as she’s been home this time. 

His silence is telling, though, and Harry kicks him under the table. 

“Styles!” Nick shouts from his office. 

Harry stands up, cracking his back. “Boss calls.”

Liam gets up a second after him, tossing his mostly uneaten sandwich in the trash. He doesn’t let himself think, _is this the best it’s going to get?_ again because it’s pointless, really. 

Still, when Louis, later, tells him all about the client he’d just talked to — “Sang _everything_ , Liam, you don’t understand how hard it was to keep a straight face, and I still sold!” — he feels a weight lift off his chest. 

*

Things don’t really get better, and Danielle’s only home for three weeks before she’s leaving again. The weather turns colder, and Liam mainlines tea and coffee, trying to stay warm. 

“I want to drive you to work,” Danielle says as she’s fixing her hair in the mirror on her last day home.

He frowns, looking at her. “Today?”

She shrugs. “I miss it. Used to, all the time, and now I’m always gone. And you can take the bus home, yeah? Just... Won’t have a chance to do it for a long time. I would have before but I only just thought about it.”

He would really rather not take the bus, but she looks so hopeful, eyes wide, that he can’t say no. “Sure,” he says, shrugging. He walks forward to kiss her shoulder. “Why not?”

She smiles, looking more relaxed already, and hands him a necklace. “Put it on me?” The ring on her finger catches the light. 

He nods, taking it from her, and kisses the back of her neck before he attaches it. “Love you,” he whispers. “You’re so, so beautiful.”

She smiles, shyly, looking down. “Thanks.”

He wonders when the last time they’d spent a moment like this was. She was sick, and now she’s been practicing every day, often leaving before the sun’s up and not getting back until Liam’s showering before bed, and by then she’s too exhausted to do anything but read. 

This, though, is nice. It’s like they were in the beginning. He’s reminded of the time he proposed, in her flat after he’d spent the night.

She smiled, then, like she’s smiling now. Her whole face lit up and she just nodded, couldn’t stop even when he was kissing her, lifting her up and sitting her on the counter.

They leave hand-in-hand and Danielle kisses his cheek as he gets in. It’s cold and their breath puffs out in little white clouds. Liam’s shivering. This whole thing feels off-kilter. They really haven’t done this in forever. 

They drive in relative silence. Danielle turns on the radio to some talk show, but keeps it low. It’s early enough that the sun’s barely up, and the snow’s the brightest thing on the road. He’s gonna be a good hour early, but that’s okay, he thinks. He can relax a little bit for once. 

By the time they get to the office the sun is up, although not doing anything to protect against the cold. He wraps his scarf around his neck, shivering before he even gets out.

She shuts the engine off and kisses him properly, smiling. She smells like lilacs, the perfume one of the other dancers had given her. He prefers the vanilla but he’s not going to say anything about it; lilac is nice too.

“Love you,” he murmurs. It feels odd, saying it more than once in a morning. They don’t, that often, anymore. Maybe after the wedding it’ll get better. Calmer. 

She nods, rubbing a thumb over his cheek. “Love you. By the time I come back it’ll only be a few months until the wedding.” Her voice is quietly hopeful. 

“Five,” he says, because he’s always got an internal clock running, tick-tick-ticking. (When he gets impossibly lonely, even when it’s the two of them in a bed that feels too big and too small, he wonders if it comes from excitement or dread).

She nods and opens her mouth as if to say something. She doesn’t, though.

He fixes his scarf, needing something to do with his hands. 

“I’ll miss you,” she says. It startles him; he hadn’t been expecting that.

“You, too,” he murmurs. He kisses her and then her cheek, and then he gets out, waving until she drives away. His heart already hurts. God, he misses her. 

A little sadly, he wonders if he misses the _her_ from two minutes or years ago. 

He can take the bus home or maybe Harry’ll give him a ride. He can usually tell when Liam’s miserable and offers, anyway. Louis does, too, but it might be better for him to stay away from Louis for a little while.

He shakes his head past the thoughts and heads inside. It’s kind of nice to be the first one in; he gets to set the coffee to brew as strong as he likes, watch a few YouTube videos while he gets things started. Nick never cares anyway.

Louis is the second one in, fifteen minutes later, carrying two giant Starbucks cups. He hands one to Liam without a word. 

Liam frowns, taking the lid off to blow over it. “You got me tea.” He can’t say he’s surprised; Louis always does this when Danielle leaves. He’ll never admit it, though, and whenever Liam mentions it he goes, _oh, is she gone? I’d forgotten_. 

“And here.” He throws about fifteen sugar packets at him. “I put the milk in but I can’t stomach putting that much sugar in anything. You’re going to lose your teeth, Liam.”

Liam rolls his eyes and stirs the sugar in one at a time. “That’s because you grab too many. Eight, Louis. That’s hardly anything.” He takes a sip. It burns his tongue, but it still makes him feel better. 

Louis shakes his head as though Liam’s betrayed him, walking over to his own desk. He puts his jacket over his chair, not looking at Liam.

Liam leans back and checks his phone. Danielle hasn’t texted him. She leaves so often now that she told him she doesn’t feel like she has to text him when she gets on the plane. Which is completely fair, he reminds himself. She doesn’t have to. He misses her, sure, but she’s busier. Especially now. 

It sucks, he lets himself think as he takes another sip of tea, to always be the one left behind while she’s living her dream. He doesn’t resent her for it; he wants her to be happy. He wishes sometimes he’d gone back to try out for The X Factor, but he’d never had the courage.

Louis cracks his back and opens his drawer, grabbing something and heading toward the break room.

“What —” Liam starts. 

Louis turns around and shakes his head. “I’m not making you an accomplice.” He looks meaningfully at the tea. “I expect that’s gonna guarantee your silence.”

Liam doesn’t laugh, no matter how much he wants to. “Of course,” he says, dry. 

Louis goes into the kitchen with another meaningful nod. 

Maybe his life isn’t so bad.

*

“Louis!” Nick shouts as he comes out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him. 

Liam winces, rubbing his eyes and taking another sip of tea. It’s five minutes after the start of work. It’s gonna be a long day.

Louis turns around in his chair slowly, elbows on the armrests and fingers steepled. “Yes?” he says, eyebrows raised.

Liam, thankfully, manages to school his face into something relatively calm when Nick looks at him. He shrugs. 

“How can I help you, Nicholas?” Louis asks in a deceptively calm voice. 

“I left my food in the fridge and it’s not there now!” he snaps. He actually stamps his foot. 

“That,” Louis says, drawn-out, “sounds like more of a personal problem. I have no idea how to help you.” 

“You hid it somewhere!”

“I absolutely did not,” Louis says. 

Nick glares. It’s not intimidating at all; Liam barely manages to stifle a giggle. 

“You got here early,” Nick says. “You’ve never gotten here early in your life unless it was to mess with Harry’s things. Or my things.” 

“I got here early to meet with Liam!” Louis shouts, standing up and whirling around to point at him. 

“Liam?” Nick asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“He brought me tea,” Liam says, shrugging. “Nothing else happened.” He doesn’t lay it on too thick, just leaves it at that. In his defense, he’s not technically lying. Louis _had_ brought him tea. Liam doesn’t know a thing beyond that.

Nick grimaces and looks between the two of them. “All right. Well. If someone would like to put the light _and_ the food back in the refrigerator, I would appreciate it. If not, you’re all fired!” He goes into his office, slamming the door. 

Louis barely manages to stifle his giggles as he walks over to Liam’s desk, holding his fist out. Liam bumps it, grinning. 

“Nailed it,” Louis whispers, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Thank you.” He actually sounds grateful. 

“You’re welcome,” Liam murmurs. “So where is the food, then?”

“It’s all there. I just put up a wall in the fridge hiding it. I’ll take it down after lunch, hopefully convince Nick his eyesight’s gone bad.” He grins. 

Liam shakes his head. 

Louis leans in on his elbows. “Hey, let me take you out to dinner tonight? As thanks?” 

Liam swallows hard. He wants that, desperately, but if they go out to dinner together — not drinks, just… like a date — he’s doesn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from kissing Louis, at least. 

Fuck. He has to get a hold of himself. Danielle’s barely been gone an hour. 

“You already bought me tea,” he reminds him, teasing. “In exchange for my silence, I think is how you put it. Anything else would be overkill, wouldn’t it?” 

Louis’ mouth works. “Oh,” he murmurs. “Right. I — yeah. I forgot about that.” He taps the desk a few times. “I just, uh, thank you.” He smiles, small, and walks away.

Liam doesn’t call him back over, but it’s close. 

*

Unfortunately, that’s the highlight of Liam’s morning. Louis avoids him after his fight with Nick, doesn’t come over even once. 

Liam finally goes over to his desk when he’s got a free minute, leaning against it and eating a granola bar. “Want half?” he offers, holding it out. 

Louis shakes his head without looking at him. “No, thanks, Liam.” He pauses a second. “I’m actually pretty busy at the moment.”

“Oh.” In all of Liam’s time there, Louis hasn’t ever blown him off like this. Especially not for anything work-related. He doesn’t know what to do. “Right.” 

“I’ll take it,” Harry says, reaching a hand out. He gives Liam a small smile. 

Liam hands it over and heads back to his desk when it’s clear Louis isn’t going to say anything else. 

He hasn’t done anything, not that he thinks. 

He catches Louis and Harry walking into the kitchen together and bites his lip, grabbing his half-empty mug of tea and finishing it in two big gulps. He carries it over. Maybe Louis’ll be more likely to talk when he’s not apparently drowning in work. 

He opens the door to hear Louis saying, in an almost gleeful voice, “Eleanor was brilliant, Haz, so sweet —”

The door swings shut with an audible noise and Louis whips his head around, cutting himself off mid-story. Liam frowns, grabbing a tea bag out of the box in the cupboard and filling his mug up with water, sticking it in the microwave. “Carry on?” he says, accidentally making it a question, when the hum of the microwave is the only sound for a few minutes.

“Nah,” Harry says a second later, when it becomes clear Louis isn’t going to say anything. “How you holding up, Liam?”

Liam stares at him while the microwave works. “Um,” he says. “What?”

“I mean, with the cold,” he clarifies. “It’s freezing out. You all prepared? Got your coat and hat and everything?”

Liam gives a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “Even got a scarf.”

“You’re more prepared than I could have hoped for,” he says in that long slow drawl he’s adopted lately. “I have nothing to teach you.” He holds his arms out. 

Liam snorts. “Thanks, Yoda. Everything all right, Lou?” 

Louis is just sitting there, quiet. His arms are folded on the table, head down. He doesn’t answer Liam.

Liam frowns, but doesn’t say anything else. The microwave beeps and he grabs his tea, blowing over the top of it. He pours in milk and sugar, busying himself and making too much noise. He really notices it because Harry and Louis don’t say anything else. He grabs his mug and bites his lip, staring at the wall. Apparently Louis just isn’t going to talk to him. “Bye,” he finishes lamely, waving a little because he’s an idiot.

“Yoda? I’ve always thought of myself as more of a Gandalf,” Harry muses as he walks out.

Louis’ bright, fake laugh follows him out of the room.

So it’s not everyone, then, he thinks as he sits down. It’s just him. Or everyone minus Harry. 

“Louis,” Jade calls from her desk. “There’s been a problem with your cheque, come here.” 

He goes over. Liam can’t hear their conversation, but all the awkwardness that had been there with Liam seems to be gone. 

Louis doesn’t look over at him as he sits down, immediately getting into an animated conversation with Harry and ignoring his phone ringing. 

Liam sighs. He’s got absolutely no idea what he did wrong. 

*

Louis doesn’t mention Eleanor, whoever she is, all day. 

As far as Liam’s aware, Louis hasn’t ever lied to him about something like this. Back at the beginning, when Louis was a bit of a serial dater, he told Liam about every date with a self-satisfied smile. And when he’d begun dating Hannah, a couple years ago, he’d asked Liam a million questions about what he should do, since Liam was such a ladies’ man, clearly. Since he’d managed to get engaged to the first girl he’d ever shagged. 

(He was engaged, even back then. It hurts a little to think about. Louis doesn’t ask him for advice anymore, even when he still told Liam about all of his dates. Liam can only assume it’s because Louis knows, now, just how terrible Liam’s always been with women, even his fiancee).

Liam’s almost hurt by it, he realises halfway through the day. It’s not that Louis owes him anything, but he’d thought they were friends. Nothing’s changed, not that he can see. He’s still the same person, even if Louis hasn’t dated anyone in a while. 

It’s not that he’s not telling him about Eleanor, he realizes when he catches Louis sticking pencils into Harry’s desk drawer so that he stabs himself every time he opens it. It’s that he’s not sharing an apparently big part of his life. He won’t even talk to him. 

It’s not until four in the afternoon that Louis comes over. “Harry says you looked sad,” he says, frowning. “Did something happen with Danielle?”

He shrugs. “She left.” He doesn’t elaborate. 

Louis nods. “But — she leaves all the time,” he says slowly. It almost sounds hopeful.

“You’re right,” Liam says, flat. 

Louis twists his mouth. “You know what I meant,” he murmurs. “Is there anything else wrong?” 

He shrugs, not making eye contact. “Nah,” he says. He bites his lip. “Hey,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean anything, earlier —”

Louis waves him off. “Don’t worry about it,” he says. 

This, Liam thinks, would be a perfect time to ask about Eleanor. For the first time, though, he adamantly doesn’t want to hear about Louis’ dates. Maybe it’s good Louis isn’t telling him. 

He doesn’t think too much into it, just lets him walk away.

*

He stays quiet for the rest of the day, relatively speaking. Danielle still doesn’t text him and he’s reminded sharply that that isn’t something they do anymore. They might be engaged but they’re not in love like they used to be. 

At the end of the day, Nick calls a meeting in the conference room.

“Tina-from-HR isn’t here, so the ever-lovely Finchy is gonna fill in for her,” he says, clapping to get everyone’s attention. “Now, he wants to talk to you all about sexual harassment. Apparently, at some of the other branches, they’ve been having some issues,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I told him we don’t have any of that here but he said _Nicholas, it’s thirty minutes of your time and you’ve kissed most everyone here while drunk_. Well, I won’t deny the kissing allegations but there are thirteen employees here and that times thirty minutes is quite a bit of wasted time, innit?”

Matt rolls his eyes, getting up. “Are you finished? Can I get going, then?”

They bicker, and Liam yawns wide enough that his jaw cracks, eyes sliding shut. 

“You okay?” Louis asks, soft and amused. He leans in close, resting a hand on Liam’s knee.

He nods and can’t help himself from letting his head drop, chin pressed to his chest. “Didn’t sleep much,” he murmurs. “Dani’s left.” 

Louis goes quiet and Liam should explain — the exhaustion isn’t from a night of farewell fucking, it’s from worry — but he doesn’t know how, and any words he might have said get lost in another yawn anyway.

At some point, Liam’s head drops to the side with his exhaustion. Louis’ sweater is just so soft and he hasn’t had a proper nights’ sleep in a while. 

Under his cheek, Louis stiffens, but doesn’t pull away, so Liam doesn’t move. He’s asleep in a few breaths, drifting off to the ever-soothing sounds of Nick and Matt whisper-yelling at one another, while a track of inspirational music that Matt’s apparently put on plays in the background. 

He wakes up to the shuffle of chairs and blinks fast, shaking his head. “Sorry,” he mumbles to Louis, stretching his back.

Louis shakes his head, smiling at him in that weird, sad way he’d been doing earlier. “No problem. Y’needed it.”

He nods, looking down at his shoes. Louis’ voice is gone all tense and upset. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” Liam asks, because everyone’s gone and no one’ll hear if Louis starts shouting at him.

Louis doesn’t, though. His eyes catch on Liam’s cheek and he shakes his head, finally dragging his eyes away and rubbing at them. “Nah. Just got into a fight with Nick, and missed a sale, it’s been a rough day.”

“Oh,” Liam says, and they walk back into the main bit of the office, pulling on their jackets. “I’m sorry about that.”

“S’all right, in the end,” Louis says. 

They walk outside and Liam remembers — shit, he doesn’t have a car. “See you tomorrow,” he says, pulling out his phone to check the bus schedule.

Louis frowns. “What’re you doing? Hang on, where’s your car?” He looks around.

“Dani dropped me off, I totally forgot. It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He looks down at his phone. There’s one in twenty minutes. If he runs, he can catch it. 

Louis rolls his eyes and links his arm through Liam’s, pulling him toward his car. “I’m driving you home. Buses are horrible and you deserve better.” 

He smiles, feels himself go hot even in the freezing cold. He doesn’t put up a fight as Louis drags him across the lot. “It’s not that bad.”

Louis gives him a look. “Liam, please. Get in my car.”

“Fine.” He slides in when Louis opens the door for him, rubbing his hands together. “Thanks,” he says when Louis has gotten in on the driver’s side. 

“Shhh,” Louis says. “This is my time to think about pranks to pull on dear Harry.”

Liam chuckles and falls silent, leaning his head back against the seat.

“Do you think replacing the soap with mayonnaise would be too much?” he asks when they’re stopped at a light. “Hmm, probably,” he says after a long moment, before Liam’s come up with anything to say.

“Nick might kill you, as well. He hates condiments,” Liam says. “Once he got ketchup all over his hand and I thought he was going to cry.”

Louis cackles. “Liam, you’re a _gem_ ,” he says. “I’m gonna use that later.” 

Liam sighs as long-sufferingly as he can. “Just leave my name out of it.”

“I always do.” 

They lull back into quiet for the rest of the drive, Louis turning up the radio and humming along. 

He doesn’t get out right away when they pull up to his house, pauses a minute. “I really am sorry your day was so terrible,” he says, turning to look at him properly. Louis’ face is almost glowing in the light from the streetlamps, half of it cast in shadows. He looks pained. “Really.” He grabs Louis’ forearm, squeezing gently. 

Louis shakes his head and, again, his eyes catch on Liam’s cheek. “Not a bad day, overall,” he murmurs, like he regrets saying it even as it comes out. “Night, Liam.” He tugs his arm out of Liam’s grip, putting his hands on the steering wheel in an obvious hint.

“Do you want to come in?” He gets out in a rush, and winces as soon as he’s said it. “I mean. I could cook us something. I really am getting better,” he says, smiling. 

Louis’ mouth works. “I can’t,” he finally says, and he actually looks sorry. “I’ve got plans.”

Liam remembers, then. Eleanor. “Oh,” he says, unbuckling himself. “Yeah. Sorry, I —”

Louis reaches over to squeeze his arm, gentle. “Good night, Liam,” he says quietly. 

It’s not until he gets inside and looks in the mirror just beside their door that he notices, faded but still there, the woven pattern of Louis’ sweater on his cheek. 

He doesn’t let himself consciously think about that, and if he thinks about the way Louis had stared while he’s in the shower, it’s not intentional. 

*

“Everyone! Give me your attention!” Nick shouts, hands cupped around his mouth.

No one but Liam looks up; Liam only does because he’s been “fired” three times this week and he’d really not have another stupid conversation about it when he’s got this much to do. A shipment of world maps had gone to the wrong place, and now he’s had clients calling him left and right, irritated. It’s not as bad as any of his geography mishaps, but it’s bad enough.

Louis rolls his eyes over at Liam.

“Hey!” Nick shouts when everyone continues to ignore him, stamping his foot. 

“Yes, Nicholas?” Harry asks, grinning and leaning forward on his hand. “How can we help you?”

Liam catches Louis’ eye and makes a gagging motion. Louis snickers, but spins around in his swivel chair, fingers steepled. He’s right in front of Nick and has to look up. “Yes, what is it?”

“Oh, for the love of — conference room!” Nick shouts. “Two minutes, _please_.”

Liam gets up, and goes to sit in the back, where he usually sits with Louis.

“No,” Nick tells him, sitting up on the table. “Front, please. I want you to take notes.”

Oh, god. Liam nods, and goes to sit at the front of the room, right in the center when Nick directs him there. He pulls out the notebook he has for such occasions, looking at Nick expectantly. 

Louis snorts when he walks in, sitting next to him and grinning up at Nick. 

“Shove it,” Nick says, but his voice isn’t nearly as acerbic as it usually is. Shit, he seems nervous. Liam tries really hard not to laugh. 

When they’ve all finally filed in, Nick pushes off the table, clapping a few times. “Okay. So. I need you to all do me a favor. Collectively. Or, well — individual favors, but the kind of individual where you’re all doing the same thing.” He clears his throat, looking at Liam.

Liam frowns, and writes down _everyone do Nick a favor alone and also together_ , showing him.

Nick makes a face but doesn’t push it. 

“What is it?” Louis asks, arms crossed, leaning back in his chair.

“My boss is coming in for the day to do work evaluations and I need you to all be on your best behaviour. I know we’re all mates — well, I consider all of you my children. Except for you, of course, Harry, but —”

“Wait, why?” Harry asks from the other side of Liam, sitting up all the way. “Why ‘of course’?” He’s glaring at Nick. 

“No reason — just — you’re my child too. But my adopted child. The one I didn’t meet until he was already over 18.” Nick goes an interesting shade of pink, mouth working.

“But _why_?” Harry asks plaintive and slow. 

Liam tries to stifle a giggle, pressing it into Louis’ shoulder, but he can’t quite hide it.

When he looks up, Nick is giving them a disappointed look. “ _May_ I continue?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Louis says, which sets off everyone giggling, including the new guy, a disgustingly pretty boy with wide eyes and dark hair. 

“You’re making me look bad in front of Zayn!” NIck says, a little desperate. He gestures toward the pretty guy. “Also, everyone, this is Zayn Malik. He’s our new social media intern and I’m sure he doesn’t appreciate all of you making these jokes. I’m your superior!” he shouts when they don’t quiet down. 

Liam finally controls his giggles, and writes, _everyone is nick’s kid_ in the book. Louis takes the pen and adds a winky face and an _except for Harry_. 

Nick cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “My boss is coming in!” They continue to giggle. “If you all behave I’ll give you a surprise!”

Instantly, the room is quiet.

“What kind of surprise?” Harry asks suspiciously. “Is it like, the sense of having done a favor for a friend? Because that’s not an actual surprise, Grim.”

“I bet it’s a candy bar,” Louis says. 

“The reassurance that he probably won’t fire us today?” Liam offers as innocently as he can.

“Liam, you’re fired,” Nick says.

Liam rolls his eyes, not moving. 

Zayn leans forward, murmuring, “Is this — how these things usually go?”

Liam nods. “I’ll probably be fired once more this meeting. He doesn’t mean it, though.”

“Yes, I do!” Nick insists. “I’m just magnanimous!”

Liam frowns. “What’s that mean?”

“Giving,” Zayn offers helpfully. When Liam turns around to give him a confused look, he says, “I was an English major at uni. Vocab was my thing.”

“Well, that’s good,” Louis says, “because we’re all a bunch of idiots here. Aren’t we, Nicholas?”

Nick’s got his head hanging forward, shoulders slumped. “I’m going to be fired.”

“Nah, you won’t,” Louis says. “Ben’s seen us worse, hasn’t he?”

“Please don’t call Mr. Cooper Ben,” Nick pleads, a little desperate. “Surprise. I promise it’ll be a good one. All you have to do is be in good behaviour. Not your best, I know none of you will do that, but good.”

They all promise, or at least promise not to let Mr. Cooper _know_ they’re making fun of him and they file out. Zayn lingers by Liam’s desk, frowning. “So that is normal, then?”

Liam nods. “It gets, uh. A little hectic.”

“And the thing with the surprise?”

“We’re not a very self-motivated bunch,” Liam admits. “Sometimes, some of us need a little push.” He looks over at Louis, who’s taping bits of paper onto a bunch of jars, grinning madly. “Okay. One of us, really.”

“Zayn,” Perrie says, coming up to him and biting her lip, tilting her head, “I’m meant to show you around the office.” She’s laying on the charm thicker than she usually does. Liam can’t blame her. Zayn’s well fit.

Zayn snorts, and gives him a fistbump, which Liam returns. It’s a little weird. “Thanks, man. See you around.” He follows Perrie to the back of the office. 

Liam shakes his head, smiling, and gets back to work. 

*

The day goes relatively well. The sales team, plus Liam, _do_ get into a fight where they’re all throwing paper clips and erasers at each other. Nick’s the only one who sees and he glares at them hard enough that they all go back to their desks. 

As soon as Cooper is gone, Nick’s slumped against the doorframe. “I’m not fired and we’re not out of business!” He tells them all, grinning. 

“Surprise?” Louis asks, eyebrow raised. “What is it?”

Nick opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I. Uh. Will have that together tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s _ages_ away,” Louis whines. Liam catches Zayn’s eye, and mouths _see?_ “I want it noooooow.”

“Noooooo,” Nick whines back at him. “Anyway. Thank you all for being on — well. Not-terrible behaviour. I appreciate it.”

“Didn’t do it for you!” Louis shouts. “Did it for the surprise, we did.” 

“Some of us did it for him,” Harry says, frowning. “Even if Nick doesn’t feel the same kinship with us that he does with everyone else.”

Liam just shakes his head. The phone rings and it’s back to work. 

*

Danielle calls him on his way home from work. 

He stares at it for a bit before he answers, confused. She usually doesn’t call him unless she’s got something important to say. It’s nice to hear from her, though, when he answers he’s smiling. “Hi, darling.” 

“Liam!” she says, and he can hear her smile. “Sorry, I know you’re probably driving home, but I missed you.” 

“It’s all right,” he says, biting his lip. “Miss you too. How’re you doing?”

She hums. “Pretty well. Today’s been busy and exhausting but I like what we’re doing. Got a new partner, he’s lovely. How was your day?” 

“Good,” he says. He pulls into the lot and heads up to his flat. “It wasn’t that busy, got a lot of work done.” He thinks of Louis’ arm flung easily around him as Liam had giggled into his shoulder and he wants to explain — _he’s my best friend and he makes me happy to be at work_ —but he doesn’t know how to explain Louis in a way that doesn’t make it sound like he wants to kiss him. 

“Good,” she says. She lets out a little delicate sigh. “I miss you so, so much.”

“I miss you too,” he says as he lets himself in, tossing his keys aside and taking his jacket off. He almost feels guilty, but he doesn’t know why. 

*

The next day, Nick comes in with three trays of Starbucks drinks, all balanced on top of one another. “I think I got all your orders right,” he says.

Liam’s gotten a peppermint mocha. He wrinkles his nose and looks at Louis, who’s staring in horror at some fancy coffee drink. 

“This isn’t tea!” he shrieks.

“Oh, well.” Nick shrugs. “I told you all I’d give you a surprise. This is it.”

Liam laughs, taking a sip. It’s disgusting, of course, but he appreciates the effort. Or something.

Louis still looks scandalised and Liam can’t help giggling until Louis turns to glare at him, arms crossed. “This isn’t funny! How could Nicholas think I drink _coffee_?” He asks, walking to Liam. He’s holding the cup out in front of him, lid off, as though to prove the affront is real. “We’ve got to get him back, Liam.”

Liam shakes his head, trying not to preen too obviously under Louis’ attention. He bites his lip to hide his grin. “I’ve got to get back to work!”

“At least help me change his password?” He asks, biting his lip. 

Liam has never, in the history of this company, been able to resist that face. “His password’s simple,” he says. “If you can guess it, I’ll distract Nick. All right?” 

Louis swoops down and kisses him on the cheek, grinning. “Thanks, darling,” he says. He goes back to his desk, pulling out a pen and a piece of paper. 

Liam bites his lip and grins down at his desk. 

It’s not long at all before Louis is coming back over, putting the paper down with a flourish. “Any of these?” he asks. 

Liam skims the list, frowning, and shakes his head. They’re all numbers. “It’s words,” he says, handing it back to him. 

“Can’t you just tell me?” Louis asks with an exaggerated pout. 

“Nope. You’ve got to guess it. It’ll make your prank more fun, anyway,” Liam says. 

Louis glares. Liam refuses to crack.

It takes three more rounds before Liam drops another hint. “Nick’s password,” he says, very slowly, enunciating the two words, “is very simple.”

Louis wrinkles his nose. “Very simple?” he guesses. 

Liam pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Louis says, throwing his hands up. “It’s just password, isn’t it?”

“Close,” Liam murmurs. “ _Nick’s_ —”

“Nick’s password, got it,” he says, and grins. “Thanks, you’re an angel. Nicholas!” he shouts. “Liam wants you! He’s just too polite to proper say so!”

Nick comes out of his office, frowning. “Liam?”

“There’s a problem with the copier,” Liam says. It’s not a lie, at least. The copier hasn’t worked properly since Harry sat on it two Christmases ago. 

As he’s leading him over, he spots Louis getting into his office and gives him a small thumbs up.

*

“Louis Tomlinson!” Nick shouts, stomping out of his office. 

“Hmm?” Louis asks, turning in his chair. “What’s wrong?”

“You bloody —” Nick groans. “You changed the background of my computer!”

“I did no such thing!” Louis insists. “I don’t even _know_ Nick’s password.” He grins, wide.

Nick glares at him, and he doesn’t say anything else before going back into his office and shutting the door. 

He sends Liam a message. 

_new password. ltitwpitw(bhig)_

Liam frowns, but types out a reply. 

_what’s it mean?_

_not telling_

Liam groans, and writes it down on three separate Post-Its, sticking one in his planner, one on his desk, and one on his computer monitor. He’s never gonna remember this. 

*

“What are you doing right now?” Louis asks at midday, grabbing Liam’s shoulder over his desk. He looks like he’s about halfway through laughing himself silly. 

Liam blinks, looking up from a doodle of a logo he’s been making for Nick. “Um. Finishing up this thing Nick asked me to do. We need a new logo.”

Louis shakes his head, biting his lip and looking around. No one else is paying them any mind, but he doesn’t seem to notice that. He keeps his voice low as he says, “I need you to stop doing that and come with me. But keep quiet, it’s a secret.”

Liam closes the sketchbook and sets it to the side with a Post-It that says _don’t touch this nick!!!!_ on it. It won’t work, and Nick’s gonna flip through it and get mad that Liam can’t draw and possibly pretend to fire him again, but that’s on him. Liam’s been telling him that he can’t since he got hired.

Louis is positively vibrating with anticipation and Liam follows him out into the hallway, down the stairs, until they get to the landing (the one they used to eat lunch at when Louis couldn’t stand Harry and his constant need for attention, in his first few weeks at the company. Liam had joined him after a while, if only because Louis kept moaning about how lonely he was every day and he wanted him to shut up about it).

“What?”

Louis giggles. “Harry’s enlisted me for a _secret mission_.”

Liam snorts. “You’re joking.” Louis, in all likelihood, wants to prank Liam but won’t come out and say it. “Harry’s not even here today, Lou.” He’d come in earlier to see a half-eaten apple on Harry’s desk, same as before. 

“He just got back,” Louis says cheerfully. “He told me about it yesterday and just texted me.” He holds out his phone, where there’s a series of exclamation marks and smiley faces.

Liam shakes his head, but he’s grinning. 

“He wouldn’t tell me what it was about, other than that it involved matters of the heart. Said we were to meet after hours in the break room.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Apparently it’ll take an hour or so. You don’t have plans, do you?”

He shakes his head. “Even if I did, I’d cancel them.” He presses his lips together. It’s not just because it’s Harry, he admits to himself a little sadly. Louis is just so excited, and pretty, and — he stops himself right there. _Inappropriate_ , he reminds himself. 

Harry comes bounding down the stairs then. He stops dead when he sees the two of them together. “Does he know about the alliance?” He murmurs to Louis, as though Liam can’t see his lips moving.

Liam nods fast and coughs to hide his little smile. “Don’t worry, Haz. I won’t break your trust.”

Harry narrows his eyes, but only for a moment. “Okay.” He pauses. “I suppose I can tell the two of you —” Upstairs, a door slams, and he goes still. “Abort mission,” he whispers, running back upstairs. 

Liam shakes his head and starts up the stairs. Louis presses a giggle into the back of Liam’s shoulder, who stops the both of them for a minute before he composes himself. 

When they get back upstairs, Harry’s wearing a blue bandana around his head. There’s a red one on Louis’ desk, and purple on Liam’s. Pinned to it, in messy handwriting, is a note that just says, _ALLIANCE_ with a drawing of what is probably a banana but looks more like a dick. _Put this on your wrist!!!_ is written in Harry’s horrible handwriting. _We don’t want it to be too obvious. (Burn this note.)_

Liam presses his lips together to keep from giggling too loudly as he ties the bandana around his wrist and so does Louis.

Nick walks out of his office, and stares at the three of them. “What’s going — you know what, never mind.” He gives Harry a suspicious look, who looks back as calmly as he can with the bandana tied around his forehead and falling into his eyes. 

Liam snickers and Harry sends him a panicked glance and goes, “Shhhhh!” 

Liam mimes zipping his lips, nodding very seriously.

*

Liam has to spend a few extra minutes working on something for Nick, so it takes him a bit to get to the break room. Harry’s standing at the door with his arms crossed. “Password?”

“Um,” Liam says.

From inside Louis shouts “Hand him your bandana!”

He does and Harry nods, inspecting it before letting him inside. “Had to make sure you weren’t an imposter. You understand.”

“Right,” Liam says, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t mention that Harry could _see_ the bandana, but only because he has excellent self-control. “So. What’s this about?” He sits down next to Louis who immediately rolls his chair around and puts his legs across Liam’s lap. He rolls his eyes and shoves at him, but Louis refuses to budge. 

“I have a secret mission and I need your help,” Harry says. “If you do, I’ll be sure to share my banana crop with you!” He grins.

Liam swallows, trying to phrase it as kindly as he can. “No, thank you,” he finally settles on.

Harry’s face falls. “But I have a new plant this year! I got a certificate in genetic engineering. Or, well, I studied it and I think I’ve tinkered enough that it’ll grow in London _and_ not be dangerous at all. Or, well, it won’t be _very_ dangerous.” He looks proud, grinning.

“Um,” Liam says, in the same polite voice. “I’d rather help out of the goodness of my heart, if it’s all the same. You are my friend, after all.”

“Exactly,” Louis says, nodding. “Excellent point, Liam. How awful would I feel accepting payment for what I would much, much, _much_ rather do freely?”

Harry pouts. “No one ever has any faith in my gardening,” he says in a defeated voice. 

“I have lots of faith,” Liam promises. “Those strawberries you made, a few years back, those were delicious.”

“But I like _bananas_ ,” he says mournfully. “All I’ve ever wanted to be was a banana farmer.”

“You have terribly lonely dreams,” Louis says. “But I’m sure one day you’ll get it. Anyway, what’s this mission?” He claps. 

“Right.” He nods, fidgeting. “So, I fancy Nick.” He goes quiet, looking expectantly at the two of them.

Liam nods, waiting for him to continue. He doesn’t so Liam goes, “And?”

“Well, I thought I’d let that sink in.” He looks up, frowning at the two of them.

“You’ve told me,” Liam says. “Both drunk and sober, I think.”

“You shouted it that one time we all went out,” Louis adds. “You’ve not told Nick, but that’s only thanks to me.” 

“Have I really? Huh.” He shrugs. “Regardless, I think it’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“To seduce him,” he says. “Now, what does Nick find sexy?”

“Men?” Liam offers. “Models. Pretty sure he said something about lollipops once, but I’ve no idea if he was serious and — you know what? Never mind, I’m not helping you seduce our boss.” He wrinkles his nose, doesn’t need to think about them doing whatever it is Harry wants to do.

Harry pauses, considering. “Should I become a model, do you think?”

“Absolutely not,” Louis says, at the same time Liam says, “Please don’t.”

Harry glares at the two of them. “I could do it if I wanted!”

“No one’s arguing that,” Liam says gently. “But, you’d end up so famous you’d leave us, and then we’d be miserable.” Louis nods along, and he’s clearly trying not to smile. 

Harry crosses his arms. “You’re taking the piss.” 

“Little bit,” Louis admits. 

Harry looks like he’s about to throw a fit, so Liam quickly jumps in. “Haz, you don’t have to become a model to get Nick to notice you.”

Harry groans, and flops down so he’s lying on one of the tables. Even curled up he barely fits. “But I’m not even sure he _fancies_ me. I’m never not sure,” he says. “Until Kendall, that was never the case.”

Liam closes his eyes and tries very hard not to hate him. 

“Nonsense,” Louis says. “Clearly Kendall’s an idiot in that department. Every bloke, at least, fancies you. Right, Liam?”

“Er,” Liam says. “You’re — fit, yeah.”

Harry’s face brightens. “You think?”

“Sure.” It’s bizarre, but he’s not lying. “Well fit, even.”

Louis shakes his head. “Now, now, that’s enough,” he says, swatting at him. “Wouldn’t want him to get a big head, eh? Hair’s already big enough.” He sits on a chair, leaning back and studying Harry. “I’m really not sure if he fancies you, though. Haven’t been looking. My animosity’s been far too in the way.”

Liam rolls his eyes. Privately, he thinks it’s likely that Nick _does_ , but he’s never had a good eye for those things and he — like Louis, presumably — doesn’t want to get Harry’s hopes up. “I’ll keep an eye out as well,” he promises. “Proper secret, like.”

Harry beams.

“We are going to have to retire the bandanas, though, I’m afraid,” Louis says. “They catch too many people’s eyes. We have to be subtle about it.”

Harry grins, soft. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “And — okay. So if I’m gonna seduce him, this is gonna be a long-term thing. At least, that’s what I’m interested in. S’it more romantic to make jam or ice cream for him? With the bananas?” He widens his eyes hopefully.

Liam doesn’t say anything, looking to Louis. He’s done his part.

Louis kicks Liam in the thigh before he answers. “Please don’t,” he aims at Harry. “You’re going to give him food poisoning again and as nice as a Nick-free week was last time, I think that’s counter to your plan.”

Harry sticks his lower lip out, shoulders slumping forward.

“If you use anything but the bananas, ice cream,” Liam says slowly. “That’s the more romantic. Of the two. Just make sure you add sugar this time.”

Harry scoffs. “Sugar isn’t—”

“Please. Add sugar.” Liam keeps his voice firm.

Harry sighs, long and drawn-out, pulling his bandana over his eyes and pouting. “Fine. It won’t be healthy, though.”

“Fine.”

The three of them sit for a while, awkward. 

“So. Mission Seduce Nick for Curly is a go?” Louis says, giggling a little.

Harry rolls his eyes. “You’re not taking this seriously!”

“Oh, just take him out for a drink and tell him you want to suck his dick,” Louis says, shrugging. “That usually works, doesn’t it?”

Liam has a sudden thought, a question of whether Louis has ever done that, seduced someone in that way. He has a flash of Louis on his knees for someone else, mouth open, waiting, and — he has to blink hard to get past it. _Danielle_ , he thinks sternly. Christ. He misses her. He rests a hand on Louis’ ankle without meaning to, and leaves it there because it’s more awkward to move, he thinks. 

Harry groans, putting his head in his hands. “He’s my _boss_. I have to do it proper.”

“Didn’t you date Caroline for, like, six months?” Liam asks, eyebrow raised. “And she was higher-up than Nick, even.”

“It was different,” Harry says, waving a hand. “I wasn’t hoping for forever with her, was I?”

They go quiet. 

“Forever?” Liam asks quietly, tightening his grip on Louis’ ankle involuntarily. Louis shifts, and Liam swallows hard and moves his hand. 

Harry twists his mouth. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “Can you just help, please?” His voice is a little bit desperate.

“Harry,” Louis says, just as soft as Liam had been. He gets his legs off of Liam, leaning in close to Harry. “Take him out for a date and proposition him, I can almost guarantee he won’t turn it down. Wait until after to think about forever.” 

Again, Liam can’t help thinking about Louis on his knees. God, he’d be so pretty, maybe get his hands behind his back and mouth open, waiting. He shifts in his seat. He’s never really thought about Louis like that beyond one very confusing dream when Louis first started, just before he got engaged. But now that he’s started thinking about it he can’t stop. Fuck. “Yeah, we can help,” he says inanely, when it goes quiet. “Anything for you, Haz.”

Harry nods. “We need a codename for it.”

“Get Curly Laid,” Louis offers again.

“It should be something related to your matching quiffs,” Liam says consideringly. 

“That’ll be your assignment for the night,” Harry says, very seriously. “Figure out a name for all of this.” He holds out his hand to shake. 

Liam takes it. It’s all very formal and very weird. 

They go back out, all talking. Nick walks out of his office and glares at all of them suspiciously for a minute. “Hi, there,” he says to Harry, ignoring Liam and Louis.

Louis waggles his eyebrows at Liam and drops his bag very obviously, bending over. As Nick’s walking away, his eyes catch on his bum for a second longer than necessary. 

“Well, he definitely likes Louis’ arse,” Liam says thoughtfully. 

“That doesn’t help me! I don’t have an arse!” Harry says, throwing his hands up.

“Please, don’t,” Louis says, shuddering. “God, I’m going to have to wear looser trousers.” 

“What’s that?” Nick calls. “Does someone need me? Also, you lot should get out of here. It’s a Thursday evening, isn’t that party time for you youngsters?”

Liam gives him a flat look. “You drink more than I do.”

He grins. “I live like I’m young. Also, don’t take that tone with me, Payne. I sign your paychecks.” 

_Kinky_ , Louis mouths. 

Liam stifles a giggle. His phone buzzes and he answers it, leaving Louis to do all the hard work of halfway flirting for Harry. 

*

Halloween sneaks up on Liam.

He’d been halfway planning something—Harry had dared him to go as Batman, even offered to be Robin—but then Danielle and he had started fighting, and he’d gotten less sleep, and here he is on October 31st, staring at a closet with depressingly normal clothes.

He looks around his room, frowning. Nothing of use. He’s gonna have to go without a costume this year. Which is a pity, really. Halloween’s one of his favorite holidays.

He’s heading to the bathroom when he sees it, halfway sticking out of his drawer. He pulls it out, holding it up against himself. It’s a David Beckham jersey Louis had gotten him for Christmas last year. He’d shouted about Liam looking like Beckham, and when Liam had admitted he wasn’t sure who Beckham was, had gotten upset and made him come to a bar to watch a game with him.

Liam wasn’t very entertained, but he pretended for Louis’ sake.

It’s going to be tighter than it’s supposed to be, he thinks, looking down at the jersey. He pulls it on and adjusts it, looking at himself in the mirror. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to wear with it. Trousers are out, definitely.

He rummages through his drawers, looking for a pair of basketball shorts. Wrong sport, but Louis won’t notice. He thinks.

He sighs and looks up a picture of Beckham on his laptop, trying to style his hair similarly. He’s not shaved in a couple of days, which is nice—it makes him look a bit older, a bit more like him.

He stands back when he’s got the finished product, staring at himself. Good enough, he thinks. He grabs a coat to throw on over the outfit and his briefcase and nearly runs out. He’s going to be late, but not significantly.

*

Nick whistles when he walks in, which is flattering. Liam grins, sitting down.

“You _do_ look like Becks,” Harry says from where he’s standing at his desk. He’s in a giant green cardboard box, and it doesn’t look like he can move very much. “Very good, Liam.”

Liam frowns at him. “What’re you supposed to be?” he asks.

Harry rolls his eyes and turns around, jabbing his finger toward himself awkwardly. There are round things poking out of the box, and – oh.

“A Lego,” he says, nodding.

“Yes,” Harry says primly.

“But aren’t the, um, connect-y bits supposed to go on the front?” Liam asks.

Harry pauses, not answering and shifting where he’s standing. “Yes,” he says, cheeks pale pink. “I might’ve forgotten about the head hole, though, until I’d already cut it and by that point it was like three in the morning and I didn’t have time to fix it.”

“You were doing that at three in the morning?”

He shrugs. “Sure. Didn’t have anything better to do. We’re training this new guy, George, and he works the night shift at the inn. I’ve been staying up with him some nights. He’s afraid of the dark, poor thing.” He clucks his tongue.

Liam laughs, and he’s about to continue but the door’s opening. He looks toward it. “Louis!” he says, grinning.

Louis is just standing there, lips parted a bit, staring at Liam. “Oh,” he says quietly, looking him up and down.

Liam shivers, shifting in his chair. “It was really last-minute,” he explains.

“Right,” Louis says. He shakes his head, walking over to Liam’s desk and leaning against it. “Guess what I am.”

He’s in a huge unbuttoned plaid shirt and a dark wig that looks as though it’s been dipped in cooking oil.

It takes him a minute, and then – Liam grins. “You’re Harry.”

“Bingo, Payne,” Louis says, grinning wide. He turns around to the rest of the office, throwing out his arms and shimmying his shoulders absurdly. “I’m Harry!”

Harry glares at him from his desk. He tries to cross his arms, but the cardboard doesn’t allow it and he ends up stuck with his arms half-folded. “Dick,” he says.

Louis bounds over and kisses his cheek. He overshoots with his hug and Harry’s eyes go comically wide just before he falls with a crash loud enough to shake the building.

“What’s that?” Nick asks, coming out of his office. “Oh, god,” he says as he looks between them.

“I’m fine!” Harry yelps. “Just need someone to help me up, please.”

Nick rolls his eyes but holds out a hand, and they get Harry standing.

Harry dusts himself off primly. “Happy Halloween, everyone,” he says, and winks at Liam.

*

“You really do look good,” Louis says as they’re walking out. “Got any big plans for that costume?”

Liam snorts, shaking his head and holding the door open for the two of them. “Nope. Gonna go home and get out of it. My legs are cold.” He pouts.

Louis gives him a funny little smile, stopping in the parking lot. “You should go out. Have fun.”

He shrugs. “Not really my thing.”

Louis looks down at himself, laughing a bit. “My costume’s not nearly so great as yours, but we could go out together. If you wanted.”

They could. He’d love to, but – “Danielle’s getting in early tomorrow morning,” he says, pouting apologetically. “Have to get to bed early. We’re going to look at caterers,” he says, grinning.

“Right,” Louis says. “Never mind then. Happy Halloween, Liam.” He waves and heads back to his car, but not before giving Liam another careful once-over.

Liam feels pretty good about himself as he goes to his own, grinning and singing along to the radio.

*

The trip to the caterer’s starts well enough. He and Danielle get there fifteen minutes early, even, and she holds his hand, rubbing her thumb across the back of it.

They’ve already got a general potential menu, and it’s all smooth sailing until—

“And do you have a gluten-free option for this?” Danielle asks, holding up a forkful of rice.

Liam frowns at her. “What do we need a gluten-free option for?”

She shushes him, insistent.

“I’m sorry,” the caterer says. “We don’t offer that, I’m afraid.”

She sighs. “I don’t think we can use him,” she murmurs at Liam.

“Ah, we do have several other—”

Liam cuts him off, and he sends him a brief guilty glance but doesn’t stop talking to Danielle. “Honestly. Who’s eating gluten-free?”

“My sister,” she says, as though it should be obvious.

“Your _sister_?”

“Yes,” she says, exaggerated and mocking. “She’s on a new diet.”

“I _hate_ that new trend,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Gluten-free isn’t a diet, it’s not healthy, it—”

“Shh!” she snaps at him, and finally turns back to the caterer. “We’ll be in touch,” she says, offering a hand.

They’re fairly quiet until they get into the car.

“Will you stop that?” she shouts at him, slamming her door shut. “Quit always undermining me and insulting my sister!”

“I wasn’t insulting _her_ ,” and he knows even as he says it that it’s a bad idea, but it doesn’t stop him. “I was insulting her choice in diet. It’s really not healthy, Harry’s been going on about it for ages –”

“Oh, Harry,” she snaps, getting them out of the parking lot and nearly making Liam smack his head against the doorframe as they turn around a corner. “The terrible farmer? You’re taking health tips from him?”

“He’s my friend!” Liam says, glaring at her. “He’s not terrible, just – not that great yet. He’s getting better.”

Her jaw’s set and she doesn’t answer for a minute. “Whatever,” she finally says, voice clipped.

Liam scoffs. “Whatever,” he says, and turns to look out the window.

They spend the rest of the drive in a tense silence.

She goes into the house ahead of him, and slams the bedroom door behind her.

“Fine,” Liam says to the empty living room, and sits on the couch, dragging his laptop toward him and opening up Facebook. 

*

On the last day of November, Nick brings in a megaphone. Liam just has time to cover his ears before he starts talking. 

“Employees of the Manchester branch of One Direction Maps, Incorporated!” he shouts into it. 

There’s a second of absolute silence, and finally —

“Jesus!” Louis shouts, and: 

“God damn it, Grim, I’m hungover,” Harry mumbles, (“You went out on a _Sunday_?” Louis asks him, raising an eyebrow, and Harry glares until he looks away), and: 

“What the _fuck_ ,” Zayn says, walking out of the break room with a mug of tea, unshaven and hair mussed. He’s still gorgeous. What the fuck, indeed, Liam thinks. 

Liam puts his head down on his desk. 

“Friday night, don’t forget!” Nick shouts into the megaphone. “At the usual pub! It’s the annual-except-for-when-I-had-the-flu-three-years-ago Grimmies!” God, he’s loud when he wants to be, Liam realises with a bit of almost respect for all the times he’s been quiet.

He gets up and grabs the megaphone from him delicately. “Nope,” he says when Nick makes grabby hands for it. 

“But it’s the _Grimmies_ ,” he says like that’s supposed to mean anything.

Liam just sits down, setting the megaphone at his feet. “No.”

“What are the Grimmies?” Zayn asks, because Zayn hasn’t yet realised that Nick only ever says things so that people will ask him about them. 

Nick fucking _cackles_. “Oh, you beautiful, _beautiful_ man. My annual awards show, of course! In which I give the lot of you awards and we all applaud and there is lots and lots of drinking! Which is why it’s on a Friday. I’m nothing if not responsible.”

“Have you actually asked them this year, then, or are we just going to crash another pub?” Louis shouts. “I want to know if we’re gonna spend an hour and a half in the cold looking for somewhere else. So I know to bring my jacket or not, you understand.” He’s grinning, looking between Zayn and Nick.

Nick glares. “Anyway,” he says, directed at Zayn, “bring your family or friends or whatever, I don’t care. Attendance from you lot, though, is mandatory!” He shouts and finally flicks the megaphone off, going into his office without another word. 

Zayn comes up to his desk a bit later under the guise of having Liam make copies for him. “Um,” he says, handing them over. “What, uh, is the deal with the awards show?”

Liam hums, putting the first sheet down. “Nick wants to be a DJ, it’s basically his dream. So every year he does this awards show where he makes awards and gives them out and everyone gets really drunk. There’s usually a lot of crying. Mostly on Nick’s end, though last year Harry did a bit as well.”

Zayn nods, still looking mystified.

“Just — come along. You’ll get some embarrassing award, Nick’ll get hammered and sing along to Celine Dion, Harry’ll probably join in.” He smiles at him. 

“Thanks,” Zayn says, biting his lip. 

“Zayn, can you come here and help me?” Perrie calls from across the office. She glares at Liam. 

Zayn grins, walking over to her without getting his papers back. 

Liam shrugs and sets them aside for later. He looks over the edge of his desk and Louis is staring at him with a look he can’t begin to decipher on his face. Liam tilts his head questioningly but Louis goes pink, looking resolutely at his computer screen. After a minute his eyes flick over to Zayn and he frowns, just barely.

Liam rubs his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He doesn’t think about it. He only has a few minutes, he’s sure, before —

“Liam!” Nick shouts. “Get in here, I want you to find my best jokes and write ‘em down!”

And there it is. He sets the phone line to the automatic voicemail and goes into Nick’s office, where he’s got a stack of DVDs waiting for him to look through. He brings them into the conference room, queueing up the first disc. 

“If you make popcorn, I want some!” Nick shouts. 

Liam rolls his eyes and heads into the kitchen, grabs two bags and leans against the counter while he waits for them to pop. He gives the first to Nick and keeps the second, taking notes on all the jokes that are funniest — or, he corrects himself, the jokes that Nick will think are funniest. 

The thing with the Grimmies, Liam thinks with a bit of irritation, is that Nick gets progressively drunker as it goes on, and Liam is always, always last, and so —

“Award for the Longest Engagement — Liam Payne!” Nick-on-TV shouts, grinning wide. Liam-on-TV walks up, taking the award with a tight smile. 

He frowns, looking down at his note packet. He very specifically doesn’t write it down. He’s absolutely aware Nick’ll give him the same fucking award anyway.

Louis joins him on his break, eating the popcorn and rolling his eyes at every joke Nick makes. “Why’s he make you watch these?” he asks while Nick croons at Matt and Fiona.

“He thinks he hit his peak of humor a few years ago,” Liam says, shrugging. He leans back in his chair with his jaw set. It’s not fair to be mean to Louis, he tells himself sternly ,and he’s not trying to be but he can’t keep the irritation out of his voice. 

“What’s wrong?” Louis asks softly.

Liam shakes his head. 

Louis tilts his head at him. “Come on.” 

Liam shuts his notebook and looks at him. “He gives me the same award every goddamn year. And, like, it can be really hard to be reminded every year that your fiancee doesn’t want to get married half as much as you do.” 

Louis holds out his bag of crisps without a word, scooting closer. He nudges their shoulders together.

“Thanks,” Liam murmurs, taking a few. He waves about an ineffectual hand. “I know he doesn’t mean it. It’s just — difficult.”

“Hey. There’s no one more willing to talk shit about him than me,” Louis reminds him, nudging him with his shoulder again. “Really. Anytime. It’s a shitty joke and I think everyone’s sick of it.”

“Yeah?” Liam asks, relief flooding through him.

“Yeah,” Louis murmurs, giving him a small smile. He squeezes Liam’s shoulder. “You’re allowed to get mad when things are unfair. Dunno if anyone’s ever told you that.”

Liam rolls his eyes, but it’s nice, having Louis remind him. He gets caught in his own head most of the time, especially with Danielle gone all the time. “Thanks,” he finally settles on, because it’s the least strange thing he can think of.

“Anytime,” Louis tells him and he leans just a bit closer, thumb rubbing comfortingly on his shoulder, before he blinks, standing up quickly and rubbing a hand over his face. “Uh. Yeah. I’ve got to get back, but Nick’s a dick and, if you get overwhelmed, you know where to find me.”

And he’s gone, quicker than Liam can register. He frowns, but turns back to the TV. Nick’s in a long blonde wig and a miniskirt; it was the year he’d discovered a website that sold hundreds of wigs, Liam remembers. 

“I will always love yooooooooooou!” Nick drunkenly shout-sings, and Harry jumps up on stage to join him after a minute, shirt half unbuttoned and giggling. 

_Drunk karaoke!!!!_ Liam writes down, a bit vindictively. He’s always up for Nick making an idiot of himself. 

*

On the night of the Grimmies, Danielle comes to pick Liam up. She’s in a white dress and heels, freshly showered out of dance class. She kisses his cheek. 

He smiles at her and he’s about to ask her how her day’s been when she speaks. 

“I have something to tell you and you’re really, really not gonna like it,” she gets out in a rush.

Liam raises an eyebrow, buckling himself in the rest of the way. He doesn’t say anything, just waits for her to continue; he’s a bit sick of her dramatics lately and he thinks he knows what this is about. 

She looks down. “They changed the dates of the tour.”

And, funny enough, Liam was right. “So we have to cancel the wedding. Again,” he says, sharp.

She shakes her head. “Not cancel. Just —”

“ _Postpone_ ,” he finishes for her. Just like that, his good mood’s gone. He looks out the window, at the snow falling, light. He doesn’t even want to go to the fucking show anymore, but he doesn’t want to not go either.

They drive in silence for a minute, and then she reaches out for him. “I’m —” she starts with her hand on his arm.

He shakes it off and looks at her, about at the end of his rope. “Do you want to marry me?” He asks. “Do you really, honestly want to marry me? Because you get mad when I don’t have an opinion on flowers but you can’t even keep a _date_ , Danielle.”

“Fuck you,” she snaps back at him, hands tight around the wheel. “This is my job, we always agreed it would come first.” She smacks the horn when a car doesn’t move fast enough, jaw set. 

“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t think it’d come before our wedding for _three years_.” He’s not looking at her, staring straight ahead. 

She pulls into a car park, shutting the car off and turning to face him. “This is important, this is my _job_ ,” she says again. “We can reschedule. You’re not helping plan it, anyway.”

“Because you won’t let me!” And now he’s shouting, properly. “You always insist on doing everything yourself! Every time I give a suggestion you tell me how stupid it is.”

“Don’t have stupid suggestions, then!” she shouts.

He shakes his head at the sudden silence, turning to face the window. “Drive me to the pub,” he says. “Please.”

“I’m not going in.”

“I don’t give a shit,” he tells her, buckling himself in again. “I am. It’s part of _my_ job,” he snaps.

After a long moment she starts the car, driving slowly. They don’t talk. And if Liam slams the door shut behind him, he doesn’t catch her reaction.

He goes inside and sees Louis and Harry sitting at a table, talking animatedly. His mood lightens, just a bit, and he goes to sit with them.

“Hiiiii,” Harry says, smiling and nudging him. He frowns. “Hang on. Where’s Dani?”

Liam doesn’t say anything, takes Louis’ beer and drinks half of it in one go. Louis doesn’t say anything, for once, and for that he’s grateful. He’s so mad he feels like he’s about to cry or hit something. He misses boxing, suddenly. Least that helped get everything out.

When the waitress comes by, he orders a margarita. Louis watches him, concerned and careful. Liam pretends not to notice. 

Nick goes on stage and Harry jumps up to do the lights, giving Liam a sympathetic look and a ruffle of his hair. 

As Nick starts his speech, all about how familial the office is, Louis leans into Liam. “What happened?”

He shakes his head. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you and her — have you and she...” He trails off, looking at him. “Because you can stay at mine, if you are.” There’s something carefully hidden in his eyes.

God. That sounds amazing, he realises. His shoulders fall forward and he shakes his head. “Nah. We didn’t. She just has to change the date again.”

Louis’ mouth is open, and he looks like he’s about to shout. “Are you fucking kidding?” He whispers, as Nick goes into a joke about how beautiful Zayn is, talking about his beautiful Aladdin-like hair in a sing-song voice. “Again?”

When Liam looks up at Harry, he looks absolutely crushed. Liam knows how he feels. (As soon as he has that thought, he pushes it away; not even he’s that pathetic.) He shrugs at Louis. “Her tour dates got changed. I yelled, she yelled. It wasn’t pretty.” He takes a sip of his drink, wincing at the sweetness. 

Louis grabs his shoulder, squeezing it. “That’s shit,” he says. “Do you — I mean — you’re still welcome to stay at mine,” he murmurs. “If you want.” 

Liam looks down into his drink, closing his eyes. “I would love to,” he says quietly. God, sleeping on Louis’ couch sounds a million times nicer than sleeping on his own. “I don’t think, though — I mean. I should go home, yeah?”

Louis pulls his arm back, fingers brushing his neck as he does. “Of course,” he says. “You’re right, yeah. Work it all out, make up?”

Liam snorts. “That, or I’ll end up on the couch.” 

Louis shifts a bit to get comfortable, fingers on his arm. 

They sit there, watching Nick’s speech — he starts going on about how the office is like a map of his heart, or something Liam’s not really following; the metaphor falls apart fairly quickly and Liam suspects Nick’s already a few drinks in. 

“I’m mad at her,” Liam says, suddenly, when Nick starts singing. He looks at Louis. “Like, furious, actually. This is the fourth time, and that’s after she wouldn’t set a date for ages. Feels like she doesn’t want to fucking marry me, is what it is. Wish she’d just leave, then.” He shakes his head, staring down into his near-empty glass. 

Louis doesn’t say anything, but Liam can feel him looking. He doesn’t look up, is afraid to see the pity he’s sure is going to be there. 

“Liam,” Louis says slowly after a moment. “Are you happy with her? Really, honestly?” 

Liam closes his eyes, pushing his glass away so he can rest his forehead on his palms. “I don’t know.” 

“Tell me if I’m crossing a line,” Louis says, and his voice is shaking, “but you always seem so miserable when you talk about her. Is it worth it to stay?”

Liam laughs. It comes out bitter, hollow. “I can’t,” he says, and finally looks up. It’s not just pity on Louis’ face; he looks open, wanting — but no, Liam can’t think that. He’s absolutely projecting. Liam closes his eyes and when he steadies himself, Louis’ face is neutral again. 

God. He’s barely had anything to drink at all. 

“I’m going to have another,” he says. “Want anything?” 

Louis shakes his head and stands up, hand on his shoulder. “I’ve got it. You just stay here, watch the awards.” Liam’s eighty percent sure he feels the press of Louis’ lips against the back of his head, but then he’s gone. 

Liam pokes at his ice with his straw, glaring at his glass. Onstage Nick’s crooning Silent Night, for some reason. 

Louis comes back with two more of what Liam had been drinking, smiling. “Y’can have mine, if you want.”

Liam could _kiss_ him. Poor choice of words, he chides himself. “You’re going to turn me into an alcoholic,” he says, tugging Louis back down into his chair and leaning his head on his shoulder. “And I love you for it.”

Louis laughs, rubbing his back. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. 

Liam doesn’t say anything, nuzzling his shoulder a bit. 

“Hey, Li —” he starts. 

“And now!” Nick shouts, directly into the mic. It’s loud enough that whatever Louis says gets drowned out. “The most important part of the evening: the awards themselves! I present to you my lovely assistant, Mr. Harold Styles.” He points at Harry.

Harry pouts, coming onstage with a huge, heavy-looking box. “M’name’s not Harold,” he mumbles, just loud enough to be heard through the mic. 

Nick snorts, clapping him on the back. “Thank you, Harold!” He turns to the crowd. “First, let me present the award for most talkative.” The room goes silent and Liam giggles, finishing off his drink. Nick glares at him until Liam goes quiet. “Perrie Edwards!” he shouts. 

Perrie claps, going up to the stage. She takes the award that Harry gives her, and grabs the microphone, holding it up like a prize. “This is the same award I got at uni!” She says, still laughing. Zayn cheers. “I’d like to thank everyone for always listening to me, even when they tell me later that they didn’t think my stories were very interesting. I disagree, of course, but —”

“Thank you,” Nick says, taking the microphone back from her entirely unsubtly. She pouts, but gets offstage, going to sit where she had been before, in a chair right next to Zayn. 

Liam nudges Louis and points with his chin. “Are they…?” he asks.

Louis nods, rolling his eyes. “You’ve really got to get back there sometime. They’re always nattering on about the dumbest shit. But, yeah. On-again, off-again. I swear, those two are like a game of ping-pong.”

Liam giggles at that, hard enough he has to set his head on the table to calm down. 

Louis is staring at him when he sits up, hand to his mouth. “Are you okay?” he asks. “I’ve never seen you this drunk.”

Liam nods. “Used to not have a kidney,” he tells him. “That’s why. I don’t drink much.”

Louis stares at him. “You used to just… not have one?”

He nods. “Guess it grew back.”

Louis stares at him. “Liam, I’m pretty sure that’s not how biology works.”

“Ask my doctor,” he insists, and, putting his finger over Louis’ lips, says, “Shhhhh. Nick’s starting.” He takes the drink Louis said he could have, grinning.

“This next award is for someone very near and dear to my heart,” Nick says. “By far, the most attractive person I’ve seen in my life. If that’s an exaggeration, it’s only a slight one. Hottest in the Office goes to the intern, Zayn Malik!”

There’s scattered applause, but not from Harry. He sets the box of awards down with a heavy thump, face crumpled, and rushes off stage. 

Liam frowns, getting up to run after him. He’s pretty drunk but he manages to make it to the bathroom without stumbling too badly. Harry’s hopped up on a counter, head in his hands. 

Liam wraps him in a hug without a word, head against his chest. “Nick’s being a dick,” he says, and tries really hard not to laugh at the rhyme. This is serious. If his words slur, he thinks belatedly, hopefully Harry can still understand him.

Harry nods, and Liam can feel him shaking. “I guess I have my answer,” he says, miserably.

Liam frowns. “What answer?”

“I told him I had a thing for him and I said that if he wanted me he could — well. Have me.” He sniffles. “I really thought I had a chance, because he kissed me, see.” His chest is shaking with the effort of breathing normally. “Evidently not.” He wipes his eyes again. “Christ, I’m a mess. I’m gonna get fired.”

“You aren’t,” Liam promises. He kisses Harry’s forehead, gentle, and hands him a bit of paper towel. “Nick’s just being a dick. I promise.”

Harry nods, breathing a little more even.

The bathroom door bangs open again.

“Oh, hello,” Louis says, sounding entirely confused. “I was wondering where Liam’d got to. You all right, Haz?”

“You were looking for me?” Liam asks, but it gets a bit drowned out by Harry’s sniffles. 

“Hottest in the Office,” Harry moans, head dropping forward. 

“Oh, babe,” Louis whispers, hugging him. He looks over Harry’s shoulder at Liam, and mouths _what am I supposed to do?_

Liam just shrugs, eyes wide. 

Louis keeps rubbing his back until Harry calms down, and the three of them walk out together. Nick’s hugging a terrified-looking Matt. 

“You’re wonderful,” he says, muffled against his shirt. He’s very possibly crying. “You’re terrible but you’re wonderful.”

Matt pats his back, awkward and stiff. “Thank you,” he says. “Can I, er, take my award now?”

“No,” Nick mumbles. “I don’t have my presenter.”

Harry steps forward, face red but otherwise looking normal. He picks Matt’s up, giving it to him. “Here you go,” he says. “Enjoy and... stuff.”

Liam giggles, and lets Louis grab his hand and drag him back to the table. He collapses against it. “I need more alcohol,” he says, very seriously.

Louis snorts. “You definitely don’t. You need water.” He passes Liam another, though. “I ordered while you were comforting Haz. Here, drink this.” His fingers rest, for a second, on Liam’s wrist.

 _I want to kiss him_ , Liam thinks. It shocks him less this time. He wants to suck a love bite into the hollow of Louis’ throat, push his shirt aside and see all of his tattoos. He recognises he’s staring, but can’t look away.

Louis grins over at him, and just like that, his fingers are gone. The want isn’t, though.

Liam doesn’t let himself think about it as he takes another drink. “Hang on,” He murmurs. “You were looking for me.”

“Well,” Louis says, mouth working for a minute. “You’re very drunk, was worried you’d gone and walked yourself into traffic.” He smiles, busying himself with grabbing a glass that’s about to fall off the table.

He pouts. “Not as fun as you missing me,” he sniffles. 

Louis swallows, looking down at the table and playing with a little pile of salt. “I always miss you,” he says, voice quiet.

 _I want you to miss me all the time_ , Liam thinks, and closes his eyes, resting his head on the table again. 

*

“Longest Engagement,” Nick says, giggling into the microphone, “Liam Payne!” 

There’s scattered applause. 

Liam sighs and goes to get up, but Louis stops him with a hand on his knee. 

“You don’t have to,” he murmurs, frowning at him. “You can just stay. He’s being a dick, he deserves it.”

Liam shakes his head, stumbling up. He grabs the award and holds it up, staring out at the crowd. “Nick’s not the only one to think it,” he says, swallowing hard and finally looking at Louis. “I know he’s not. Sometimes I think it too.” 

Because he’s still staring at Louis, he sees how his eyes widen, the way he grips his glass a little bit tighter. 

“But I am getting married,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re wrong.” He snaps it out at Nick and hands the mic to Harry as kindly as he can, sitting down at the table. 

Louis puts his arm around him again, rubbing his back. 

Liam feels like crying. “Will you drive me home?” Liam asks, pressed against Louis’ side, arm around him. He turns his head and presses his nose against his neck. God, he smells good. “Don’t want to take a cab.” 

“The show’s still going on.” 

“I don’t care,” Liam whines, and he knows he’s acting like a child but he can’t be here anymore. “Please, Louis?” His voice goes soft, pleading.

Louis shivers, tugging him closer for just a second. “Sure, love,” he finally says. They get up, walking to the back. 

Liam doesn’t answer anyone’s questioning looks. “Hang on. You’re not drunk, are you?” he asks when they get outside, eyes half-shut. “I can call Danielle. Maybe she’ll still want to marry me.” He keeps himself leaned on Louis, kissing his neck gently. “Sometimes I don’t want to marry her,” he admits in a whisper. 

Louis’ voice goes strangled. “All right, love, let’s get you in the car.” He leans Liam against it, and goes to unlock it.

Liam grabs his arm, tugging him back without realizing what he’s doing. 

Louis’ cheeks are pink and he looks like he wants to kiss Liam, too. His eyes flick down to Liam’s mouth. 

“Thank you,” Liam whispers. 

Louis swallows, visible. “You’re my friend,” he says. 

Liam nods and leans in. Louis doesn’t push him away and he kisses him, gentle, moving his hand from Louis’ wrist to the back of his neck. It takes a few seconds to get the angle right and then he’s sighing into it, pulling Louis in, opening his mouth just a bit. 

Louis pushes him off, hard. “Let’s get you home,” he says, false and bright. His lips are red and he’s breathing fast but he doesn’t want Liam and that _hurts_.

Liam gets in, forehead against the window. It feels like a rejection (because it _is_ a rejection, he tells himself miserably) and he knows how stupid he’s being but he just wants _someone_ to want to kiss him. 

Louis doesn’t say anything about it on the ride home, but when they stop he squeezes Liam’s knee. “Here you go,” he whispers. 

Liam smiles at him, tentative, pushing his leg up into the touch. “Sorry —”

“Take some medicine,” Louis interrupts. “Feel better. And talk to her, yeah?”

Liam nods, not saying anything else.

When he gets inside, Danielle’s already asleep, curled up with a book next to her. He watches her for a minute before tugging off his shoes and shirt and crawling in beside her. She shifts toward him, squeezing his hand. 

He kisses the back of her neck, and just like that he’s asleep. 

In the morning, he can hear Danielle in the kitchen and there’s a message waiting for him on his phone. _drink some water and sort it out, love. x_ He groans, rubbing his forehead. He’s got a killer headache. 

He flops back on the sheets, and wills his hangover to stop. There’s medicine in his drawer and he takes two aspirin, hiding his face in his pillow. 

When he feels marginally more like a person, he goes into the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” Danielle starts. 

Liam shakes his head, but he can’t even get his mouth open before she’s continuing. 

“We can set a proper date. I’ll put my foot down. No more changes,” she says, walking around the counter to put her hands on his hips. 

Liam nods. “But not the one in a few months?”

She shakes her head, frowning. “I can’t get out of it. I’m sorry.”

He’s disappointed, but at least she’s trying. He nods. “Figure out a date that’ll work for you, then.” He tries to keep his voice bright. 

She bites her lip. “It’s really gonna happen, yeah?”

 _I was never the question_ , he thinks but doesn’t say. He just nods, smile still pasted on his face. 

“I know it’s not the best and I know we’ve done all of this before,” she breathes, kissing him. “But, I mean it. I really do.”

He nods. “I know. We’re gonna be married properly.” His voice sounds honest, at least. He pulls away so he can pour himself some coffee while she butters some toast. 

She frowns after a minute, putting her toast down. “Hey, how’d you get home last night?” 

“Oh. Louis drove me,” he says, shrugging.

“Why?”

“He offered.” He’s not entirely sure that’s true, but he’s positive Louis doesn’t mind driving him. “And I was pretty drunk. And I didn’t want to take a cab?” He bites his lip. 

She slams her cup down. “You got _drunk_?”

He shrugs, not answering. 

She stares at him. “Liam, we’ve been dating for seven years and I’ve never known you to have more than a glass or two of wine.”

And, thinking about it, he supposes that’s true. He never drinks except with Louis, never feels quite comfortable enough with anyone else. 

Which is weird, probably, but. “Only been a few times,” he says. “Just with Lou. We go out on Fridays, sometimes.”

She’s still frowning. “When I’m gone, you mean?”

He nods. 

“Why?”

He snorts at how defensive she is. “Because going to a pub with a _friend_ is loads better than coming back to an empty house.” He regrets it as soon as he says it, but he doesn’t take it back. 

The words hang between them until she snaps, “Oh,” and walks out of the room, feet almost stomping away. 

He rubs his eyes, and only waits a minute before going after her. She’s sitting in the living room, putting on her shoes. She’s already got her jacket on. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” It feels hollow to say it.

“How’d you mean it, then, Liam? The more we talk about it — fight about it, really — the more it feels like you just want me to stop touring, and I’m not gonna do that.”

“I know.” He sits on the couch, close but not too close. “I’m just frustrated. I miss you, yeah? We haven’t been out for ages, feels like I haven’t even had a conversation with you in months. And — fuck. You don’t even say we’re engaged anymore, always _dating_.”

“We _are_ engaged,” she murmurs. She reaches out for his hand, lacing their fingers together. “I know, I know.” She rubs the back of his hand with her thumb. “I’m free the whole month of August. We could do it the third week? Might not be able to have it where we wanted, but that’s okay.”

Liam nods. “I just want to marry you,” he murmurs. Right here, right now, in the early morning, when it’s just them, it’s true. 

“And before then, we can try to get it back to how it was. Go out, be together like we used to.” She looks at him, eyes wide. “I don’t want to lose you, Liam.”

“Neither do I,” he murmurs as he kisses her, hand on her cheek.

She leans into his touch, smiling. “We’re gonna be okay, yeah?”

He nods, kissing her once more, soft and lingering.

“Let’s go out for breakfast,” she says when she pulls away, biting her lip. “That place we used to go to when we first got together, yeah?”

He smiles, feeling something settle in his stomach. It’s the diner they went on their first date, with terrible lighting and delicious food. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.”

She pulls him into another kiss, and Louis’ question from the night before pops into his head.

Yeah, he tells himself — tells Louis-in-his-mind — he’s happy. 

*

“Louis!” Liam says, grinning, on Monday morning. For the first time in months he and Danielle had gone out and come back and had sex and he’d slept better than he had in ages. He’s got a love bite on his hip and he keeps pressing his thumb against it and smiling at the memory.

Louis raises an eyebrow, dropping his bag off before he makes his way to Liam. He drums his hands on the counter as Liam sets out bowls of candy. “Yeah?” he asks, smiling. 

“I just wanted to thank you for texting. We worked it out and—I’m feeling a lot better,” he says, smiling small and pleased. 

Louis’ returning smile is inscrutable but it passes into something more neutral quickly. “Anytime, Liam. I’m rooting for you two.” He ruffles Liam’s hair, but it feels odd.

As he’s walking away, it clicks into place. Liam had tried to kiss him the night before. He’s — fuck, he’s sure Louis didn’t kiss him back, not even a little bit. 

He considers calling him back, but — there’s no point. It’ll get less awkward eventually. It has to. Louis is his best friend, after all. 

*

“I’m going to try to seduce Nick,” Louis murmurs, later that day. He loosens his tie a bit, smiling at Liam. 

His mouth goes a bit dry. It’s all very confusing. Christ, before this he’d never fancied a guy, not really — not that he fancies Louis, he reminds himself. He just appreciates him. Wants to kiss him again. Maybe wants to suck him off. 

Fuck. He closes his eyes. 

Louis goes into Nick’s office, leaning over the desk. 

Liam averts his eyes. He doesn’t want to see Louis hitting on anyone but — _anyone_ , he tells himself sternly. Anyone at all. 

He tries not to think about how possessive even that sounds. 

Louis comes over to his desk, shaking his head. “No dice. Did everything that usually works,” he says. 

Liam presses his lips together. “Maybe you’re not as seductive as you think,” he says lightly, typing out an email. 

Louis leans over his desk in much the same way he’d done Nick, giving Liam a little smirk. “You sure?” He asks quietly. 

Liam stares at his mouth, his neck, his — fuck. “Harry’s not in love with _me_ ,” he says, keeping his voice as even as he can. “Go use your moves somewhere else.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be seducing Nick, too?” He asks, ignoring Liam completely. “I thought that was the point of it. Figure out if it’s only Harry he’s nice to or not.” 

Liam shrugs. “Doesn’t feel right. I’m engaged.” 

Louis looks a bit like Liam’s done something wrong, and pushes off, walking back to his desk. 

Liam doesn’t stare at his arse as he goes, not at all. 

*

On the day of the first real snowfall of the year, Liam walks into an ice box. Nick is in his office, hopping from one foot to the other and messing with the thermostat. He smacks it closed when he sees Liam. 

“Fucking thing won’t work,” he mumbles. “Hi, Liam.”

Liam blows on his hands, rubbing them together. At least he’d remembered his warm gloves today. “Need help?”

Nick shakes his head. “Nope. Gonna wait for Matt to get in and then yell at him until he fixes it.”

“Is that really his job?” Liam asks delicately. “I mean, I can call the electrician. Get it fixed sooner..”

“No,” Nick says darkly. “This is all Finchy’s fault, it’s his problem. Until then, we freeze.” 

Liam very kindly doesn’t say anything. 

Matt does call, as soon as he gets in (“Five minutes late!” Nick shouts, “I could have died of hypothermia!”). He sets the phone down and doesn’t look at Nick as he says, “They can’t make it until tomorrow.”

“ _What_?!” Nick snaps. 

“I’m sure we can buy some heaters,” Matt says gently. “It won’t be a big deal.”

“I’ve got like four in my car,” Harry says, “they work pretty well. One of them sparks a little bit but it’s only started one fire. I fixed it, anyway.”

Liam blinks at him. “Do you actually know how to fix that stuff?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, waving a hand. “I got a certificate in electrician-ing one year.”

They all go quiet a minute. 

“Electrician-ing?” Nick asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

He shrugs. “I was bored.”

“Right,” Nick says, tilting his head. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times. 

“I’m gonna go get ‘em, then,” Harry says, careful not to make eye contact with Nick. With a nod to everyone, he leaves, audibly shivering. 

Liam shakes his head, looking after him. “Weird kid.”

Nick nods, and sighs, almost dreamily. “Good kid, though. Really, really good. At work, and at kissing.” He goes white. 

 

Oh, god. Liam swallows. Harry’s lucky he’s such a good friend. “You think?” He asks over Nick’s splutters. He means it to be casual, but it comes out forcedly so.

Nick nods. “He’s seeing someone, though.”

This… is news to Liam. “He is?”

Nick nods again. “Told me the other day. God. He told me I was fit and said _anytime you’re up for it_ with that wink, you know the one, and then walked away, and I had no idea what to do, right? Like, that’s not an everyday occurrence, even as fit as I am. And when i came round a few days later he told me he had someone, and he was so sorry.” He pauses. “Dick.”

Liam stifles a giggle. “I hope you two work it out soon,” he says, and makes a mental note to tell Louis as soon as possible.

There’s a loud crash and then the unmistakable sound of Louis cackling. Liam frowns, and he and Nick rush out of the office. Harry’s flat on his back, hair a mess, surrounded by space heaters. 

“Did you trip him?” Nick asks Louis, sharper than Liam’s ever heard him. “Come on, Haz.” He offers a hand up and stands too close, checking him for bruises.

“I’m fine,” Harry insists, but Liam can see underneath the irritation he’s pleased. 

He catches Louis’ eye, but he shakes his head. _He’s just clumsy_ , he mouths. 

They set up the heaters around the office. Louis insists that Liam needs one by him and Liam’s half-convinced that it’s going to explode but it seems to be holding up well enough, though it does shake. It means Louis spends most of his time sat on the floor in front of the heater with his phone, cord stretched out and taped to the carpet, but Liam doesn’t mind, even if Louis is exceptionally fond of tickling his ankle when Nick and customers try to ask him things. They pass most of the day tossing candy at each other’s mouth, because it’s cold enough no one wants to call or come in. 

Around midday, Nick comes out of his office, wearing two scarves and a coat that looks like something directly out of Harry’s closet. “I’m going out on an important, definitely work-related errand,” he says. “Young Harold, want to join me?”

Harry looks up, wide-eyed, nodding fast. Because Liam is a terrible friend, he has to stifle a laugh. 

Louis nudges him and makes a face. Liam collapses against his desk, giggling. 

When he looks up, both Nick and Harry are giving him Looks. Liam straightens his face, well enough that he doesn’t even break when Louis tickles his ankle, moving up his calf under his trousers. 

As soon as the door’s shut behind them, Louis is up and bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Attention, staff!” No one turns to look at him, except Zayn, who just gives him an unimpressed look and goes back to his work. Louis makes a face and hops up on Liam’s desk. “I want to have _fun_ today,” he whines, kicking his feet like the child he is. 

Liam raises an eyebrow. “Or you could do work.”

Louis pouts, exaggerated. “Please, Liam?”

Liam has never, ever been able to say no to that face. It’s a long-standing problem. “What do you want?” 

“I need you to make me some medals. Paperclips and — something else, I’m not sure, just keep it classy. Only the best for us here at One-D,” he says very seriously. “We’re gonna do Office Olympics!”

“It’s not an Olympic year —” Liam starts. 

Louis puts a finger against Liam’s lips. “I won’t have that kind of negativity here. Not in my house. Or, rather, place of work.”

Liam shakes his head, but he can’t help from grinning. 

He settles on cardstock from old maps, colouring them with bright sharpies he found in Harry’s desk upon a bit of searching. He hands them to Louis, ten of each — silver, gold, and black. “Now, there’s a bronze,” he says, holding one up. “But it looks enough like gold that you can’t tell the difference. Black’s going to have to suffice. All right?” 

“Ah, Liam,” Louis says, holding the medals in his hand. He’s grinning. “You’re a hero among men.” He leans up and kisses Liam’s cheek, gone before Liam has a chance to register it. 

Liam just stares after him. 

*

His phone goes off as he’s attempting to balance a spoon on his nose. It’s Danielle’s ringtone. He frowns, going to answer it, holding the spoon in his hand.

“Liam?” she says, voice high. “Um. I’m at hospital.”

His eyes go wide. “What — do you need me —” 

“No,” she says, sniffling. “I’ll be home tonight. I broke my ankle at practice, it’ll all be okay. Just wanted to let you know.” 

“Dan,” he says quietly, going out into the hallway. “I can leave, I don’t mind. Where are you at?”

“I’ll see you later,” she insists, sniffling again. Fuck, he is an awful fiance. He doesn’t even know what city she’s in today. “Um. They’re calling me, I’m getting x-rays done. I’ll let you know as soon as I have any information, okay? I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he murmurs, soft. She hangs up and he puts his phone in his pocket. He gets his face composed and goes back into the office, trying to look normal. 

Louis, of course, sees right through him. “What’s happened? Is it Danielle?” He asks. Fiona and Aimee are in some sort of balancing competition. 

He nods, watching them instead of looking at Louis. “Broke her leg. She’s fine,” he says, trying not to think about it. 

Aimee wins and there’s loads of cheering while they set up the next event. 

“Shit. Is she going to be okay?” Louis asks. “Do you want to leave early? We can cover for you.”

He shakes his head. “She won’t tell me where she’s at,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “She promised she’d keep me updated, though.” 

“That’s shit, Li,” Louis murmurs. 

“That’s life with her,” he says, shrugging. “Never wants anyone’s help until she knows exactly what’s going on.” He gives Louis a small smile. 

Louis nods, looking at him consideringly for a second. “You’re up next,” he says, nodding to where Perrie and Zayn are competing to see who can get the most clothespins to stick to their face. Zayn’s already wincing, but Perrie’s got three more than him and she barely looks fazed. “I call it Clippy, after the beloved Microsoft Word mascot that just couldn’t cut it in the modern age.”

Liam frowns. I thought he was a paper clip, not a clothespin?” 

Louis shrugs like it doesn’t really matter all that much anyway. “Go!” he shouts. 

Perrie wins (Liam suspects she flirted her way into Zayn letting her win, which is admirable) and Liam steps up, grinning. She gives him what she probably means to be an intimidating look, and Louis starts the timer. 

Liam winces at each new clothespin, but the inane task takes his mind off Danielle. Even though Perrie beats him (he’s still ahead of Zayn, though, and gets the silver medal that Louis puts around his neck, grinning) he’s in a comparatively great mood by the end of the day.

Nick walks in at ten minutes before they’re supposed to leave, Harry right behind him, holding his hand. Nick’s got something large and wriggling beneath his shirt.

Liam blinks. “Um, Nick—”

“Meet Puppy!” he shouts, grinning and setting her down. She runs all around the office, sniffing and barking at everyone. “She’s my new pet. Aren’t you, darling?” He whistles. “Haz helped me name her, don’t give me that look,” he tells Liam.

Liam transfers his look to Harry, who just shrugs. “It fits, doesn’t it?”

Puppy jumps up on Liam’s lap, licking his face, and he grins, petting her. She’s freezing but it lifts his mood even more. “God. I should get a dog, shouldn’t I, Puppy?” he says, scratching behind her ears. 

Her eyes, wide, tell him that yes, he absolutely should. 

*

When he gets home, Danielle’s on the couch, cast around her ankle and hand over her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve not eaten and I’m not hungry,” she snaps. 

Liam nods with his shoulders slumped forward, good mood gone like that. He heats up some leftovers for dinner — he’d go out, but he doesn’t want to go back out in that storm — and leans against the counter. He’s still got Puppy’s fur on his trousers. 

Danielle hates dogs, he remembers. So much for that. (It would just be so much less _lonely_ , with Danielle gone all the time, he thinks, and promptly stops thinking that. There’s no use).

He finishes eating and goes back into the living room. Danielle’s asleep, snoring softly. He shakes her, gentle. “Do you want to go back to the bedroom?” he asks.

She nods, turning into him. He carries her crutches in one arm and lets her lean on him. He kisses her forehead, smiling.

“Night,” she murmurs, half-asleep. 

“Good night, babe,” he whispers back, undressing and getting into bed.

He doesn’t fall asleep for a long while, staring at the silver medal sitting on his nightstand. 

He pulls out his phone when it’s been too long, scrolling through a list of the best dog breeds. He’s a masochist, maybe, but the thought of it, having someone there with him always, is comforting enough that he can finally fall asleep. 

The next day Nick has a million pictures of Puppy to show everyone and Liam can only handle a few before he begs off, claiming he has a lot of extra work to do. 

Harry brings him a mug of tea later and Louis stops by the desk with a medal from the day before, one of the ones they must not have used. It’s black, but in silver sharpie he’s written, _loveliest liam_. 

Liam wrinkles his nose, looking up. “I got third out of Liams?” he asks, because he doesn’t want to show how emotional this might make him.

Louis rolls his eyes. “No, we were just out of the golds. I can take it back, if you like.”

Liam shakes his head, too quickly, probably, but it’s been a rough day. He smiles, fingering the paper clips, staring at the carefully neat writing. He’s never seen Louis write this well, he’s pretty sure. He must’ve had someone else do it. Eleanor, maybe, and the thought makes him kind of sad. “Thank you,” he says.

Louis shrugs. “You know where to find me if you need anything,” he says, nodding toward his desk. “I mean that. You’d be doing me a favor, really.”

Liam just smiles. 

He puts his new medal on his nightstand as well. Danielle sees it and snorts, turning it over in her hand. “Do you guys ever actually do work there?” she asks.

It’s not meant to be unkind, but it stings. He grabs it out of her hand more harshly than he means and stares down at it. “I was having a shit day. It helped.”

“Bet mine was worse,” she says.

He sighs, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed. “Can we not make it into a competition? Just this once?” 

“I’m just saying, I’ve broken my fucking leg and I’m miserable and you don’t care —”

“Of course I care, Dan, come on.” 

“Stop making this about you, then! You always do that, Christ, I can never have one bad day,” she starts, shaking her head at him.

“You have a bad day every week you’re home,” he says, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t regret it when it’s out; it almost feels good, to be honest. 

She doesn’t say anything to that, just grabs her crutches and goes into the living room. He leans back against the bed, no idea where he’s gone wrong with all of this. 

He brings the medal into work instead of keeping it at home, putting it next to his computer.

Louis frowns, looking at it. “Why’s it here?” he asks. 

Liam bites his lip. “Dan got upset,” he says. “We fought about it and I didn’t want to remind her of the fight so I brought it here.” 

Louis is chewing the inside of his cheek, not looking at him. “I didn’t mean to make her upset,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to keep it.”

Liam swallows, hard. “I like it, though,” he murmurs. “It cheers me up.”

Louis’s smile is like a secret. “Yeah?” 

Liam nods. 

*

He’s on the phone with a client, later that afternoon, when he sees the smoke. 

“I’m very sorry,” he says, as carefully and calmly as he can. “I’m going to have to call you back, ma’am.” He hangs up and stands, shouting, “Fire!”

Instantly, he regrets it.

Nick runs out of his office, holding a rust-coated fire extinguisher, hair a mess around his face. “I”ve got this!” he shouts. “Everyone else just get out!” He runs toward the smoke. 

“No!” comes Harry’s voice, from the back of the office. “Fuck, fuck, fuck —” 

Nick frowns and looks back, heading toward the kitchen and waving the fire extinguisher around. The rest of them wait only a minute before leaving, going downstairs in a huge group. 

“Do you think I can get away with using the elevator?” Liam hears Jesy ask in a low voice. “I mean, the fire’s in _there_ , right?”

“Just come down the stairs, babe,” Aimee says, giggling. “Won’t kill you. Ooh, I wonder if Ian’s around.” She pulls out her phone, presumably texting him. “He is!” she shouts after a minute. “He’s gonna meet us outside.” She winks at Liam, who appears to be the only one paying attention.

“Might not kill me, but it’ll be uncomfortable enough that it’s basically the same,” Jesy says, rolling her eyes. 

They head down the stairs in a pack; the smoke doesn’t make it out of the One Direction offices, so by the time they get out and into the freezing cold it’s almost not worth it. 

Jesy groans, looking up. “Should’ve taken my chances with the fire.”

“Mm, dunno. Nick’s the one dealing with it,” Louis says, looking up.

Liam’s pretty sure that, even four floors up. he can hear Nick and Harry shouting about something. “Should I call the fire department?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I mean. He’s not the, well—”

“Most competent?” Jesy offers. 

“Smartest?” Zayn puts in.

“Funniest?” Fiona asks, which sets Leigh-Anne and Jade off. 

Louis snorts. “He’s a right idiot, s’what he is.” 

Liam frowns and swats at Louis, still staring up. It’s only another couple minutes before Nick and Harry come bursting out of the building, both gasping for air, hands on their knees.

“Shit,” Harry wheezes. 

Nick just nods, coughing. 

Liam widens his eyes. “Yeah, I’m gonna call the fire department, okay?”

Nick waves a hand, not answering. Somehow, Liam knows that the hand gesture isn’t only permission, but asking Liam to promise not to tell them Nick tried to stop it.

God, he’s been working here too long.

He gives them the address, and the operator pauses a moment. “Harry, is that you?” she asks.

He blinks. “Um. No. My name’s Liam. Is that — my building’s on fire.”

“They’re on their way,” she assures him, and hangs up with a click.

Liam looks over, where Harry and Nick are sharing Harry’s oversized coat, each coughing. He frowns and goes over to them. “So.” He directs it to Harry. “How many times have you called them?”

Harry looks up. Liam watches the confusion drain from his face. “Oh! I was going to stage a fire for you lot, because Nick put me in charge of safety based on my merits and —”

“I absolutely did not, you liar. You pouted and whined until you got the job,” Nick murmurs. 

Harry waves a hand. “Regardless, I’m in charge of safety and I wanted to teach you guys about fire but apparently starting a fire, even if it’s controlled — I have a certificate in pyrotechnics, a small trash can fire wouldn’t be any different —”

Liam cuts him off. “So you’ve called them before. Multiple times.”

He nods. “Apparently to give a demonstration they need to talk to the building owner. And Cazza’s wonderful but she wouldn’t give me permission because _you’re not nearly careful enough, Harry_.” He rolls his eyes and pulls the coat tighter around himself. “I listened,” he says after a moment. “Caroline won’t let me so I haven’t started any fires. None.” He nods. 

Nick’s staring at him, small crease between his eyes. “Oh, Caroline’s wonderful, is she?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, not looking at him, and then — “Heyyyy,” a little firmly. “Stop being jealous, jesus.”

“Oi!” Nick shouts, and breaks into a fit of coughing, burying his face in his sleeve. “I’m not _jealous_ ,” he protests when he comes back up for air.

Liam just looks between the two of them, eyebrow raised. He’s positive this is some weird mating ritual, and he doesn’t want to be involved. 

He walks over to the rest of the group, where Louis is animatedly shouting at people. “Favorite film, go!” he says, pointing at Liam.

Liam turns bright red. “I don’t have one,” he lies. It’s terrible. He wouldn’t believe himself. 

Louis fucking cackles. “You’ve _got_ to tell us now,” he insists, clapping a little bit. “Come on. Leigh-Anne told us hers and it’s humiliating!”

“ _The Notebook_ is a fantastic film,” Leigh-Anne says from where she’s pressed against Jade, head on her shoulder. “You can shove it. He won’t even tell us. Liam, keep yours a secret, too.”

“Please don’t,” Louis says with exaggeratedly wide eyes. 

Liam bites his lip and gives an apologetic look to Leigh-Anne. “Toy Story,” he says. 

Zayn snickers. “Mate,” he says.

Liam shrugs, hands in his pocket. “It’s a good film.”

Louis is giving him an absolutely inscrutable look. “Your favorite film, of all time, out of all the films in the world, is something Disney did?”

“Pixar,” Liam says, because he’s kind of a dick sometimes. “But, yes. It is.” He blushes, wrapping his coat tighter around him. For once he’s forgotten his winter jacket. 

Louis rolls his eyes and unzips his jacket to hold his arms out. “Get in here, you idiot,” he says. 

Liam laughs, stepping in. The coat doesn’t quite cover both of them, but Louis is warm and smells nice, so. He rests his head on Louis’ shoulder, close enough that his breath hits his neck. 

“Never let it be said I didn’t do anything for you,” Louis grumbles. “Look at me, freezing my tits off because someone didn’t bring a proper coat.”

Liam nods and bites his shoulder, gentle. 

Louis gasps. “Liam James Payne!”

He giggles. “You know my middle name?” He teases. 

“Course I do. Go through your mail, don’t I? ‘M proper obsessed with you.” 

Liam laughs, stomach flipping, cheeks going warm. He bites his shoulder again.

“Where did you learn to bite?” Louis asks, shaking his head. “We’ve got to civilise you.”

Liam gives him an unimpressed look. “You bite everyone. On a daily basis. That was one of the ways you introduced yourself to me.”

“Right, to show you what wasn’t acceptable behaviour.” Liam can hear the giggles Louis is trying to hide.

Liam just shakes his head, and keeps standing where he is, eyes shut. “You’re warm, shut up,” he whispers. 

Louis’ arms go tight around him for a second and then he lets go, just standing close. “Yeah,” he says back. 

Liam sighs in contentment, slowly leeching Louis’ warmth. His phone goes off and he frowns, reaching for it. “S’Danielle,” he murmurs, staring at the screen. “I should take it.” 

“Right,” Louis says, stepping back, zipping his coat up the rest of the way. “Right, sorry, I’ll give you some privacy.” He turns around and walks toward Harry and Nick, arms around himself. 

Liam frowns, feeling like he’s missed something, but doesn’t argue; he just answers the phone. 

“My leg’s going to be healed a couple weeks earlier than expected,” she tells him. “So I’ve got physical therapy to worry about, I’m not going to be home as much.”

He tries not to be relieved; it’s not that he doesn’t like having her there, it’s just odd. Feels like he can never be satisfied, sometimes; he wants her there when she isn’t, gone when she is. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. “And what about your tour?”

She goes quiet. “I told you,” she says. “We had to cancel that.”

“Oh, shit,” he breathes. He remembers, now — she’d told him when he was half-asleep, exhausted on a Friday night. “I’m sorry, I totally forgot.”

She doesn’t say anything for a long minute. “Good to know I’m so important.”

“I was just tired, Dani, I’m sorry.”

She nods. “I know. Hey, at least we know we’re not changing the date again, right?” It’s a peace offering, more placating than anything else. 

He rubs his eyes. He can hear the rest of the people and, oh, there are the fire trucks. He plugs one ear. “Yeah. Hey, Dan, I’ve got to go, all right?”

“What’s going on?” she asks, not hanging up.

“Ah, someone started a fire in the office,” he says. “Look, I’ll see you tonight, yeah? Love you.” He hangs up, jogging back to the group. 

“How’s she doing?” Harry asks, voice rough. His face is fallen, for whatever reason. He clears his throat. 

Liam shrugs. “She’s all right. Leg’s healing.” He looks up. Louis won’t make eye contact with him, is whispering with Nick. Arguing, probably. 

Harry looks absolutely devastated. “Can I tell you something?” He asks. 

“Sure?” Liam says, wrinkling his nose. He’s not sure when he became the confidante of the office, but it seems to have happened. 

They walk a little bit away, and Harry fidgets with the edge of his sleeve. “I started the fire,” he whispers. “It was my fault and now Nick’s never gonna talk to me again and he’s gonna take away my job as safety manager and possibly my real job, too.”

Liam frowns, shaking his head. “He won’t,” he breathes. “Everyone makes mistakes, Haz.”

“But I’m _safety manager_ ,” he moans, tilting his head back.

“You could just… not tell anyone?” he offers. “I mean, the microwave was about a thousand years old anyway, it was bound to catch fire eventually.”

Harry glares at him. “Heyyy, I fixed that thing. Three times. It wouldn’t ever had caught fire if I hadn’t left my popcorn in an extra seven minutes.”

“ _Seven_?”

He shrugs. “I was thinking about — um — something, and then I hit the wrong button.” 

Liam narrows his eyes a little bit. He doesn’t completely understand and he’s not sure he wants to — or, come to think of it, he’s sure he doesn’t want to. It is funny, though, because it really doesn’t make sense for anyone else to have done it. “Right,” he says. “Regardless, you could just not tell him?”

He shakes his head. “I have to be honest with him if I want us to ever have anything real.”

Liam nods. “I mean, I appreciate the sentiment but I think if you just — kept this secret, I don’t think anyone would be hurt.”

“Distrust starts with the little things,” Harry tells him solemnly. 

Liam nods, slow. “But this is an extra little thing.”

“You don’t _understand_ ,” Harry says. “You’re not in love.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, just stares at him.

“Not _new_ love,” Harry corrects himself. “You’re in boring old love. I’m sure you and Danielle have loads of secrets.”

“Well, not loads, but —”

“But I want Nick and I to start something real and he’s never been in a relationship before,” Harry says. “I have to show him the ropes. Problem, though, is that I’ve only ever been in one real thing so I’m not sure which ropes I’m meant to show. You know?”

Liam nods, slow. “So you’re saying you have to tell him because otherwise he won’t know how to be in a relationship?

“Bingo.” Harry taps the side of his nose.

Liam shakes his head. “I don’t—”

“Thanks for talking to me,” Harry interrupts. “Hey, Nick!” He runs off. 

Liam just stares at him. He catches eyes with Louis, who widens his own before going back to his conversation with Zayn. Liam frowns and goes over to them, nudging Louis’ shoulder with his own. “So guess who started the fire,” he murmurs.

“Nick.”

“Nope.” He nods toward Nick and Harry, who are huddled together. Nick’s cackling. “Our dear Harry.”

Louis giggles, watching them. Nick keeps laughing, and shoves him, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot,” he hears him tell Harry as he walks to talk to the firemen who’ve come back downstairs.

Harry looks absolutely devastated. He’s staring after Nick, mouth open a little bit. Suddenly he turns around, stalking toward the parking lot.

Liam frowns, looking between the two of them. “Should I —” he starts. 

“Please, before I have to.” Louis pushes him forward and he runs after Harry.

Harry’s got his driver’s seat all the way back and his windows are up, but Liam can hear the Taylor Swift blaring through the speakers.

He knocks on the window, gentle.

Harry rolls it down a tiny bit without sitting up. “Go away, please,” he sniffles.

“How about I come in instead?” Liam offers.

He nods after a second and hits the unlock button. Liam goes round to the passenger side, sliding in.

“He hates me,” Harry moans.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“He does! He said that I’m an idiot.” He wipes his nose. “I just want to be with him and I keep making an idiot out of myself.”

Liam frowns. “Harry, Nick’s dyed his hair pink before because he misread the permanence on it. Like, he’s probably the biggest idiot of us all. The _probably_ is only because Louis still works here.” He rubs Harry’s shoulder, gentle. 

Harry giggles, wiping his eyes.

He puts a comforting hand on his arm, squeezing.

Harry hits the button so that his seat slowly lifts back up. “You really think he’ll forgive me?”

He nods solemnly. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Harry holds out his pinky.

Trying really, really hard not to laugh, he takes it, smiling at him in what he hopes is a comforting manner.

Harry looks at him a little bit hopefully, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he breathes nonsensically. “Best get back inside, yeah?”

When they do go back in, Nick nudges Harry with his hips and calls him a pyro. Harry looks like he’s about to start crying again, but he catches Liam’s eye and just grins, laughing a bit forcedly.

It’s a start, Liam thinks. 

(Later, Liam tells Louis, “Did you know that Nick’s never been in a relationship before?”

Louis frowns. “What?” 

“Like… Harry said he had to show him the ropes.” He shrugs. 

Louis makes a face. “Please stop talking to me about Nick and ropes, please, Liam.” He shudders. “Damn it, now I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

Liam snickers.) 

*

“So,” Danielle says quietly when they pull up to One Direction. “I think we may have a problem with the wedding date.” 

Liam goes still, hand on his seatbelt. “What?” He asks, looking over at her. 

“My aunt can’t come,” she says, voice apologetic. 

Liam frowns. “So?” 

“So,” she says, “we need to change the date.” 

“Or she could just not come,” he says, frowning. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Which aunt is this?” 

“You haven’t met her,” she says, waving a hand. 

“Okay,” Liam says, and he’s almost shaking with irritation. “You want us to move our wedding, so that an aunt I’ve never met can come.” He says it flatly. 

“When you put it like that, it sounds unreasonable,” she says. “She’s important to me!” 

“I want you to think _I’m_ important.” He groans. “Why can’t she come, anyway?” 

“Oh, don’t give me that pitying nonsense.” She rolls her eyes again, staring directly out the window. “It’s her wedding anniversary!”

“That’s it?” he asks, exasperated. “That’s not enough to justify —”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she snaps. “God. Just get out of the car, yeah?”

“ _No_ ,” he says. “We’re talking about this. We’ve been together seven years —”

“Thanks very much, Liam, I know how long we’ve been together.”

“— and I’ve never heard of her — literally, never — and now, if she doesn’t come, it’s going to be devastating?”

“I’ve definitely talked about her before,” she says, arms crossed. “You just didn’t listen.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Not this again, Christ.”

“You don’t! You never listen to me —”

Around them, the parking lot is filling up. He hears Harry laugh somewhere and he’s hyperaware that they can be clearly heard from outside the car. “I’m going in,” he says, shaking his head. “Change the fucking date again, fine. Won’t be a surprise to anyone.”

Her hands are _shaking_ now, and he’d be worried he’s crossed a line if she didn’t say, “Please, get out, Liam.” Because, when she gets proper furious, she doesn’t speak at all, just glares. 

He doesn’t say anything. Just shuts the door gently, even, before going inside, hands jammed in his pockets. As he’s getting in the elevator, Louis joins him, bumping their shoulders together. “Good morning,” he says, falsely cheerful. “How’s your morning going?”

Liam sighs. “You heard.”

He doesn’t bullshit around it and Liam is incredibly grateful. “Yep.” 

“Guess you know how my day’s been going, then.” The elevator dings. “Don’t get engaged to someone who’s not home more than half the year,” he advises. “It’s horrible.”

Louis gives him a comforting tap on the shoulder as they head in. 

*

Louis walks into the break room as Liam’s eating lunch. He doesn’t say a word, sitting across from him and folding his hands together. 

It’s awkwardly silent for a moment.

“Hey,” Liam starts, but Louis interrupts him. 

“So,” he says. “I have a really weird question for you and I’d appreciate if you answered. But, obviously, you don’t have to. And it’s not just me, Harry mentioned it when he heard.”

Liam frowns, putting his sandwich to the side. “Okay,” he murmurs.

Louis doesn’t look at him. “Earlier you told me not to marry someone who wasn’t home all the time.”

Oh, God. Liam shuts his eyes. “I was just angry, we were fighting, I —”

“It’s okay,” he says, waving a hand. “I don’t care — or, obviously, I care, but I don’t care like that.” He looks up at him. “How sure are you that you want to marry her?” He asks softly, almost a whisper. 

And, well. That’s — shit. Liam looks down, can’t make eye contact with him. “Why?” he whispers. 

Louis doesn’t answer. 

He fidgets, staring at his hands. After a minute, he says, “not at all, sometimes.” It feels good, to get it out in the open for the first time.

Louis stares at him, mouth open. “Oh,” he finally says. 

Liam nods, taking another bite of his sandwich. “I’m a dick. I know.” 

“That’s not what I —”

“No, s’okay,” he mumbles. He rubs his hands over his face and thinks about it for a second. “It’s just hard. She’s always gone and she’s gonna keep being gone. She wanted to move the date, again, so her aunt could come to the wedding, I guess?” He shrugs. “We can do it, I don’t mind. Haven’t even sent the latest batch of invitations out.” He’s been meaning to, but he’s glad he didn’t. Having to tell everyone that the wedding’s been moved again is miserable and embarrassing. Telling Louis is bad enough. “It’s just the, like, principle of the thing, you know?”

Louis nods, kicking him under the table. “I get it,” he says, voice careful and even.

Liam looks at him, taking another bite. “I know. I’m being an idiot. It’s not a big deal. In the long run, I love her and she loves me, right?” It comes out more sardonic than he’d like. 

Louis shrugs. “You should be happy, though. It’s no good loving someone if you’re upset all the time, yeah?” He smiles, like it’s funny, looking down at his hands where they’re folded on the table.

Oh, god, hearing that with that fucking smile _hurts_. Liam shrugs, taking a sip of Coke so he has something to focus on. “I’m not unhappy,” he says. “Or — just sometimes, I guess.” He gets up, still not looking at him. “I’m gonna go outside for a bit. See you.” He leaves without another word. 

Louis doesn’t follow. Liam doesn’t know if he’s upset about that or not. 

When he gets back, there’s a sachet of Liam’s favorite tea on his desk, and a small black box filled with sugar packets. 

He doesn’t say anything to Louis about it, but his heart goes tight at the gesture and he can’t keep his good mood away for the rest of the day. 

*

He takes the bus home that night and gets to his flat as it’s getting dark. He swallows, and steps inside as soon as he gets up there so he doesn’t turn around and call Harry, ask for a distraction.

“Dan?” Liam calls into the flat, a little tentative. 

“In the kitchen,” comes back her carefully measured voice. 

He goes in, taking off his coat and dropping it on the couch, steeling himself for another fight. 

“We’re keeping the date,” Danielle says when he comes in. She’s cooking dinner, pasta with alfredo sauce. Liam’s favorite. She doesn’t look at him, gripping the spoon tight as she stirs.

He nods, stepping behind her and kissing the back of her neck. He wraps his arms around her waist. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Your aunt won’t be upset?”

She goes still. “I think,” she says, quiet and careful, “that I was taking my nerves about the wedding out on the wrong thing.”

He nods, slow. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Cold feet, or…?” He asks it gently, because he just wants to understand.

She shakes her head fast. “I want to marry you.” 

He desperately, desperately wants to believe her. He can’t quite make himself, though, and he kisses the back of her neck again like that will be enough to convince him. “Then don’t do that, all right? I don’t like fighting about stupid things like that.”

She just keeps nodding, leaning back against him. “I promise,” she whispers. 

Holding her, Louis’ question pops back into his head. He bites his lip. He wants to ask if she’s sure about him, but he knows what she’d say and he doesn’t know if it’d be true, anyway.

He kisses her head, and lets her finish making dinner. 

That night, she pushes him into bed and climbs over him, leg held out awkwardly. It’s healed, but not all the way there, and he’s gentle as he fucks her, getting her on her back, her mouth open in a silent moan. 

When he comes, he presses his mouth against her throat and can feel her heartbeat. 

Even so, his sleep that night is fitful. 

*

As Liam’s leaving one day, a couple of weeks later, Louis grabs his arm, turning him around.

Liam raises an eyebrow, pulling his coat tighter around himself. “Yeah, Lou?”

Louis purses his lips. It’s disgustingly attractive. “If I tell you about something, do you think you could keep it a secret from Nick?” He asks, voice dipping low. 

Liam swallows. He has to remind himself that it doesn’t matter how attractive he finds Louis, he’s still engaged. Just because Danielle’s gone doesn’t mean she’s _gone_. He loves her, anyway, and he just thinks Louis is fit. “Yeah,” he says. “I can keep a secret.”

Louis grins. “Good.” He holds out an envelope. It’s got his name on it in red and green. 

Liam laughs, opening it. “What’s this, then?” he asks, scanning it. “A party? Why?”

Louis fidgets. “I’ve just moved into a flat of my own,” he says. “And I wanted to have some friends over, have a few drinks.” He shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “If you wanted to come, I thought it might to be nice to have you there.” 

Liam grins. “Definitely.” He marks the date in his mind, putting the envelope in the front pocket of his briefcase so he doesn’t forget it. “Hang on. You’re not inviting Nick?”

“Nope,” Louis says. He sounds gleeful about it, almost. “It’s my party and I don’t have to invite him just because he’s my boss.” 

“Lou,” Liam murmurs. “He’s really not that bad.” He walks outside, heading to his car. 

Louis frowns and follows him. “Yes, he is! He calls me names all the time!”

“Because you interrupt his meetings with jokes.”

“I like to liven things up,” he says, shrugging. He grabs Liam’s arm again, squeezing. Liam can feel it even through the coat. “Will you keep it a secret?”

“Of course I will, but…” Liam shakes his head. “This is gonna go badly. He’ll find out. Especially if you’re inviting Harry.” 

“Harry promised to keep a secret!”

Liam nods. “Yeah, he may have. He’s never, ever, kept a secret. He told us all about Aimee’s pregnancy scare and she hadn’t even _told_ him.” 

Louis frowns. “He’ll do it for me,” he says stubbornly. 

“Or you could just be the bigger man,” Liam offers. 

Louis’ face goes murderous. “One more short joke and you’re losing your invitation,” he threatens. He walks off. 

“I wasn’t!” Liam calls, but Louis doesn’t look back. He throws his hands up in the air, exasperated, and gets into his car. 

*

“I still think you should invite him,” Liam says on the day of the party. “I’m 99% sure he won’t be mean to you. He might even be nice, if he didn’t think you hated him.” 

“I do hate him.” Louis shakes his head, tossing a roll of tape in the air. “Liam, you don’t understand. If I tell Nick where I live, I’ll never hear the end of it. He’ll probably come to my house and, like, throw loo roll all around, in the trees and stuff.” He waves his hands around in front of himself. “Like in the films.” 

Liam raises an eyebrow. “You know he has all our addresses. Like, it’s a requirement as our boss for him to know where we live.”

“Please don’t remind me. I try to think of it as little as possible,” he says impatiently. “Anyway, it’s different. He won’t cross that line because it’s required for him to have it, but, if I willingly invite him into my _casa_ , there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

“Come to your party, even,” Liam says dryly.

Louis tosses the roll of tape at him quickly enough that Liam almost doesn’t catch it. “Yes, exactly. I’m glad you’re finally understanding,” he says, relief evident in his voice.

Liam rolls his eyes. “Just think about it?” He asks quietly. “For Harry? Nick’s only rude to you and I don’t know why but I really think —”

Louis groans. “He’s just nice to you and Harry, and that’s because he wants to fuck Harry and you’re impossible to be mean to,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Christ.” He stalks off. 

Liam groans. 

*

Harry comes up to Liam’s desk about halfway through the day, eyes wide, almost panicked. “I think we have a problem,” he murmurs.

Liam sighs, putting his pen to the side. “Yes?” he asks, because he knows from experience that Harry won’t leave him alone until he’s said his piece and he’s not been doing much of anything anyway.

Harry looks around furtively. “Not here,” he mumbles, and jerks his head toward the door. Liam has a brief moment where he worries about Harry hurting himself — god, he’s almost set himself on fire at least three times and wrenched his neck twice that — but he seems fine, so Liam just follows him.

When they’re in the same stairwell where Harry had had them gather before, he sits down, back against the wall. After an awkward moment, Liam does the same.

“I can’t keep a secret from Nick,” Harry whispers, all but collapsing on Liam like the weight of holding his own shame is too much.

Liam closes his eyes, putting his head down on his knees. “Louis is gonna kill you.” 

“I mean, I _want_ to but he’s asked me what I’m doing tonight three times and I can’t keep lying to him, I can’t.” He looks absolutely anguished, eyes wide, hair somehow even fluffier than usual. “And I want him to be my date!” 

Liam groans. “I’m not the person you need to talk to about this, mate.”

“Can you talk to Louis? I think he’d really want to come, he loves you guys. I was at his flat the other day with him and Puppy and he couldn’t stop talking about the office, and I know he calls you his children a lot but I think that’s just because he desperately wants to be a father.” He takes a breath.

Harry’s gone and gotten himself a million miles off track again. “Talk to Louis about…?” Liam asks gently, trying to steer him back.

Harry gives him an irritated look. “Inviting Nick.”

“Harry. Come on.” 

“You’re his best mate here!” Harry says. “If he’s gonna listen to anyone, it’s going to be you. Not me.”

“Not necessarily,” Liam mumbles, and ignores the little flip his stomach does. God, he’s an idiot. “I told him to invite him in the first place and he wouldn’t. Said he wanted it to be _special_.”

Harry frowns, deep. “Nick’s special,” he murmurs.

Liam gives him another look.

“I know, I know,” he grumbles. “I just. I don’t want to come without him because it feels like lying. And you know how I feel about lying. To _him_.”

Liam nods.

“Especially now,” he murmurs.

Liam tilts his head. “Especially now?”

“Yeah,” he says, and he’s smiling a little bit. “We, um.” He bites his lip, swiveling his head around to look at Liam. “Well. We’re not together, but, you know.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Liam.

Liam nudges him with his foot, grinning. “’M happy for you, mate.”

“Yeah.” He smiles, wider now. “S’weird, because he’s my boss and all, but.”

“Maybe you just have a type.”

“Hey,” Harry says, but Liam can tell he’s not angry. He pauses a bit before he continues. “So will you talk to Louis? I’d love to come, you know I would. I just — I don’t want Nick to be left out of things. He’s worried everyone hates him.”

Liam closes his eyes. “If I try to get Nick invited to this party —” and God, it’s like university all over again, “— will you stop bringing me here for secret missions?”

Harry doesn’t answer. When Liam opens his eyes, he’s giving Liam a betrayed, heartbroken look. “You don’t like being in an alliance with me?” he asks, voice soft.

Liam — well, he doesn’t really know how to answer that. He shrugs, giving him an apologetic look.

“Because I can make it better,” Harry says. “If, like, I’ve not been a good enough friend. I just made some banana yogurt and it’s not — okay, it doesn’t really taste like bananas _or_ yogurt, but once you get past the, er, consistency, it’s really pretty good! Gems seemed to think so, at least. And, like, Nick didn’t say anything about it, but I could tell, looking at his face, that he didn’t think it was terrible.”

Sometimes, Liam wonders if Harry’s deliberately naïve or just an idiot. “Yeah, fine,” he says, because he can’t take Harry’s puppy dog eyes. “You know what, I’ll do it if you promise not to make me eat that.”

Harry grins, waving away Liam’s protests. “I’ve got some in the fridge, come on.” He grabs Liam’s wrist, pulling him upstairs. “It’s gonna change your world,” he promises, holding tight to him.

Louis snickers at the two of them. Liam mouths _help me_ as Harry drags him back.

(Liam barely makes it to the bathroom before the yogurt comes back up. Harry stands in the doorway, holding the bowl, looking horrified. 

“I didn’t think it was _that_ bad,” he says, giving it a look.

Liam doesn’t say anything on his way back to his desk. 

“Sorry!” Harry yells, entirely unhelpfully.) 

After the yogurt, Liam should definitely not be asking Louis. And yet. “Will you _please_ invite him?” he asks. “I almost got food poisoning from this, least you could do is make it all worth it.” 

“Absolutely not,” Louis says, arms crossed.

“He was literally begging.”

“I don’t care! Harry hasn’t done enough for me to justify bringing the enemy of my entire life into my house and home. It’s my one safe space, Liam. Don’t I deserve that?”

“No,” Liam says, because it’s fun to watch Louis splutter when he gets thrown off.

“Then you’re not as nice a person as I thought you were,” Louis sniffs, crossing his arms. “In fact, I think I’m going to uninvite you from my party.” He turns to stalk away.

Liam shrugs and waits until he’s almost at his desk before he says anything. “Fine. I didn’t want to go, anyway.”

Louis whips his head around.

Liam keeps as straight a face as he can manage, trying to remain impassive.

Louis _runs_ back and throws his arms around him, burying his face into Liam’s chest. “No,” he says fiercely. “You have to come. We’ve been friends for years and years and you’ve never seen where I live. I’m trying to make it fair, Liam. Don’t take that from me.”

Liam laughs, hugging him back. “Fine. I’ll come. But you still won’t invite Nick?”

“Nope.” Louis bites his shoulder softly, and Liam reads it as the apology it is. 

*

“Liam!” Louis says, grinning wide when he opens the door and Liam’s standing there. “Lovely you could make it. No traffic, I trust? Come on in.” He throws his arm out, toward his flat. 

There are only a few people there that Liam doesn’t know and he waves at no one in particular, looking to Louis expectantly. 

“There are my flatmates!” Louis says, dragging Liam over to a girl and a guy sitting on the couch. “Stan and Anne. This is Liam,” he says, shoving him forward.

Liam smiles and shakes both of their hands, fidgeting in place, a little unsure of himself, before he goes to sit down next to Anne. They ignore him, which he’s fine with. 

He gets a text from Harry not ten minutes later. 

_Harry_ 19:21

_!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_

He’s almost positive that it means that Harry’s told Nick. He ruminates, again, on the fact that he knows these idiots better than he’d care to admit. He throws a bit of rolled-up paper at Louis’ face, holding up his phone.

“What?” He snaps, and then he actually looks over at Liam, who’s got his eyebrows raised. “Oh. Oh, god. Abort, everyone out of my flat now!”

The doorbell rings.

“Shit!” Louis shouts. “Hang on, no one answer it.”

“I’ve brought wine,” comes Harry’s voice through the door.

Liam glares at Louis and opens the door. Nick and Harry are standing there, Nick looking angry, Harry supremely uncomfortable.

This is possibly the most awkward Liam has ever felt with his coworkers, other than the time Nick kissed him. “Hello,” Liam says. “Er. Welcome to Louis’s flat.” He holds an arm out in a hopefully welcoming gesture.

Harry hands him the wine and they stand off to the side.

Louis tries to smile. It falls flat.

Liam, because he’s a good friend, doesn’t leave even though he wants to.

Nick’s glaring at Louis. “You’re a dick.”

Louis looks around at all of the guests, mouth opening and closing a few times. “Uh,” he says. “Are you planning on throwing things at me? Should I run for cover now?” His voice is high, sarcastic.

“No! I’m not going to do anything to you,” Nick says, glaring at him. “Just — why d’you hate me so much?” His voice goes soft at the question.

Louis opens his mouth, and Liam preemptively winces. He can _hear_ the lecture Nick’s about to get. 

“Nick —” Louis starts. 

“No, I’m being serious. You’ve been a twat to me since day one and I’m sick of it,” Nick tells him. He swallows, looking around. “’Lo, everyone. I’m, er, Louis’s boss.” He does an odd little salute, running a hand over his quiff. “Look, I’ll leave if you really want, but I’d rather you not kick me out.” He sticks out a hand in a placating gesture.

“Oh, god,” Liam murmurs, turning to Harry. Correction: this is the most awkward he’s felt, now. “Is he serious?” 

“I have no idea,” Harry says. He sounds awed as Louis takes Nick’s hand. 

“You can stay,” Louis says, but Liam can hear the suspicion in his voice. “Don’t steal my towels.”

Nick just nods. “Fine.”

“Wine,” Harry says with a giggle. “That rhymed.”

Liam elbows him, hard.

Louis looks around the room and then shakes his head, going upstairs.

After a while, when it becomes clear that Louis isn’t going to come back, Liam follows him up. Harry and Nick are settling in; Liam just hears Harry say, “Oh, Anne, that’s my mum’s name! Are you a mum?” and Nick’s groan as he reaches the landing. 

He stops at the door with a chalk outline of a dick on it, and knocks. 

“Don’t come in!” Louis calls. “Hang on, who is it?” 

“Liam,” he says, and waits for a minute. When Louis doesn’t answer, he just pops his head in. “Nice crib,” he says, adopting a terrible American accent.

Louis is flopped backward on the bed, arm over his eyes. “Shut up, please.” It comes out quiet. 

“Nope,” he says cheerfully, though he does hope he’s not overstepping any boundaries. “You always make me talk about things when I don’t want to, this is no different.”

“I do not,” Louis murmurs, and shakes his head, scooting over on the bed but keeping his hands over his face. “I dunno. It’s stupid.”

Liam hums. “I’m sure it isn’t.”

“You’ve got too much faith in me.”

Liam shrugs. “Yeah, well.” He looks around, smiling. There are a bunch of chalk drawings all over the place. He walks over, a bit surprised to see them. “You an artist?”

“Nah,” Louis says. “I just like drawing things. Chalk is messy, it stains things. Like charcoal too, like seeing it on my hands later.” He shakes his head. “Boring, sorry.”

Liam tilts his head, looking at him. Sometimes he forgets that he doesn’t know everything about Louis. “I don’t think it’s boring,” he murmurs. “Think it’s nice.” 

Louis grins, looking at him sideways. “You do?”

“Sure.” He gets up, looking at a picture Louis has pinned to a corkboard, one of Louis and about a million girls. He smiles, can’t help himself. Louis looks so happy. “This your family?”

“Yep.” Louis gets up and stands next to him, arms behind his back. “Five sisters, my mum, and me. You can’t see them, but my mum had two more on the way.” He points to a slightly rounded stomach. “Miss ‘em,” he says, just as quiet as when Liam had walked in. 

Liam swallows, not moving away. Louis is close enough that he can feel the heat coming from his body. “Yeah?” He turns his head a bit. 

Louis nods. “I’m sure you get it, like. With —”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t know why but he doesn’t want to hear Louis say her name; it feels like something’s going to get twisted. He swallows, shaky. “Yeah, I know what it’s like.” He smiles, picking up the picture properly. Louis’ face is covered in chocolate frosting.

“It was Christmas Eve,” Louis says, a little bit wonderingly.

Liam snorts. “Your birthday, you mean.”

Louis goes quiet. “Yeah, guess I do,” he says. He steps a little bit closer to Liam, resting a hand on his arm. “I always forget, you’re ace at remembering birthdays.” 

“Only the ones that matter,” Liam says softly. It sounds too honest, too open, but he doesn’t take it back and Louis doesn’t call him out on it. 

They stay quiet for a minute, Liam afraid to move and Louis just… not. He’s shaking, almost. God. This is too much.

He cuts his thoughts off, stepping away, sitting in the desk chair. “Comfortable,” he says, nodding. “Very good choice. And I know a lot about office chairs.” Louis isn’t talking, so he just keeps going. “Nick had me look ‘em up online, compare all the prices and do a spreadsheet. He ended up picking the one he wanted initially, with the attractive model in it, but I learned a lot.” He goes quiet, and he can’t think of anything else to say. 

Louis shrugs, leaning against the wall. “I don’t work well at a desk,” he says.

“Where, then?” He grins.

“Bed,” Louis mumbles, so soft Liam barely hears him.

Liam’s mouth goes dry. Louis is looking at him in a way he doesn’t know how to determine, but he knows, God, he wants to push him against the wall, kiss him until can’t remember Danielle —

God. Danielle. He swallows, hard, taking in a shuddery breath. It’s one thing to think another person’s fit and entirely another to — whatever this is.

Louis didn’t kiss him back, he reminds himself sternly. Even if he wanted — Louis wouldn’t kiss him back. An unrequited crush isn’t something to break up an engagement for. 

They’re quiet for a long minute.

“Nick’s not such a bad guy,” Liam tells him, when it’s stretched between them, the only sound the clinking of glasses and raucous laughter from downstairs. He needs something, anything, to break this.

And, yeah, that does the trick. Louis snorts, crossing his arms. “Thought we were on the same team, Liam,” he says, disappointment in his voice. “Can’t believe you’d betray me like this.”

He cracks a smile, and feels relief settle in his chest. 

*

On December 23rd, Louis comes in wearing a Santa hat with a crown over it.

“It’s the most important day of the year!” he shouts. “Well, almost. One more day!”

Jesy gives him a look over her computer. “Christmas is in _two_ days.”

He holds a hand over his mouth, mock-offended. “Jesy Nelson! I would never call that tragedy of a holiday the greatest of the year.”

“Agreed,” Zayn says. Perrie shoves him, gentle, giggling. 

When Louis catches eyes with Liam, Liam mouths _tone it down a bit_. He nods, turning back to the room at large.

“Regardless of imposter holidays,” he says, “tomorrow is my birthday. I expect everyone will be overjoyed to finally be able to lavish me with the attention we all know I deserve the other 364 days of the year.” He nods, saluting them, and sits down. “Oh, and tonight as well. Considering it’s the party, and everything.” 

“Happy almost-birthday, Louis,” Liam says when it’s awkwardly silent for a little while.

Louis grins at him. “Thanks, love.”

God. He looks different, flushed and happy.

It’s a good look for him.

Danielle will be home tonight, he tells himself; it’s just because he misses her, because he’s nervous. It’s everything, rolled together. She’s been gone for three weeks and he wants affection.

Louis catches his eye and gives him a concerned look as Liam’s on the phone, and he has to look away.

* 

At promptly six o’clock, Nick yells, “Party time!” He’s got a bottle of champagne in one hand and his phone in the other. “I expect all of you to get fucked up,” he tells them.

Matt comes out of the annex, already shaking his head. “Nick, we’ve been through this,” he says in the most long-suffering voice Liam’s ever heard.

“It’s after work hours!”

He just looks at him.

“If I said I’d bought you a bottle of scotch would that make it better?”

Matt opens and closes his mouth a few times. “You did what, now?”

He goes back into his office and comes back, just holding a bottle of liquor with a ribbon tied around it. “Bought it for you. Happy Christmas, Finchy.”

Matt stares at it, biting his lip. “I knew nothing about the party,” he says, giving all of them pointed looks. “I expect any stains on the carpet are going to be cleaned up by the time we all get back from vacation, yes?” He nods at each of them, going back into his office to grab his jacket and leave.

Nick looks around the room, self-satisfied. “There we go. Alcohol always does the trick. Now,” he says, very pointed and serious, “I need all of you to make this the best Christmas party we’ve ever had!”

“Shouldn’t it be, like, holiday party?” Zayn asks. “To be inclusive?”

Nick waves a hand. “Yes, yes. What it really is, is an excuse to get drunk. Call it whatever you like.”

Zayn shrugs. “All right, then,” he says in that slow way he has. Perrie kisses his cheek. She’s dressed in a bright red Christmas jumper with bells on it that jingle with every step. 

“Guess she doesn’t mind being denominational,” Louis murmurs in Liam’s ear. 

Liam laughs, shivering a bit. He hadn’t known Louis was next to him. He bumps their hips together, crossing his arms and focusing on Nick.

Nick opens the door to the conference room, which is decked out in red and green streamers and tinsel, and waves them inside.

“It looks like an elf threw up,” Louis says, matter-of-fact. “Jesus, Grim.”

He grins. “I might’ve eaten up our party budget on decorations, but I think it’s good! Oh, look.” He flicks off the lights, and then it’s dark except for the fairy lights strung up everywhere. “Romantic,” he says, nodding.

Liam pretends not to notice Nick glancing over at Harry as he says it or the way Harry grins back at him with a wink.

“Did you get any work done today?” Perrie asks, raising her eyebrow and walking forward. She jingles with each step.

Nick doesn’t answer. “Party,” he commands all of them and goes back into his office, coming back out with a box full of bottles.

“Jesus,” Liam says, staring at them.

Louis smiles, wide, waggling his eyebrows. “Have a drink, for my birthday?” he asks, light and teasing. 

“Fine,” Liam says, shaking his head. “Get me one. Something good!” he calls after Louis, who’s chasing Nick with a delighted cackle.

Louis waves a hand at him. It’s only a moment before he’s coming back, holding two identical cups. “Drink up,” he says, biting his lip. “Got us the same thing so you know it’s not shit.” 

It is good, tastes sweet and fruity, and Liam grins over the rim of his cup. “Happy Christmas,” he teases. 

Louis goes pink, smiling at his shoes. “You, too.”

*

It’s only an hour or so before Nick yells, “Secret Santa!” over the megaphone he keeps in his office, for whatever reason. His voice is hoarse; he’s done three renditions of All I Want For Christmas, increasing in severity and risks taken each turn. He keeps pointing at Harry, too, who keeps unbuttoning his shirt more and more. 

Liam giggles over his cup of punch. He doesn’t want to get drunk tonight and he’s already had two of Louis’ drinks; Danielle’s coming back and he doesn’t want the first time he sees her again to be with him drunk.

They sit in a circle and Nick’s leg bounces quickly. “Okay!” he says. “We’re going to draw names out of this hat —” He holds up Louis’ Santa hat — “and then we’ll go from there, yeah?”

Liam gets a truly horrible onesie that looks like an ugly Christmas jumper but all over his body. He grins, delighted, at it. “Who gave me this?” he asks, looking around at all of them. 

No one raises their hands and so Liam looks at Louis, who never got his Santa hat back. Harry’s wearing it now and Nick’s been stealing it every few minutes (probably, Liam muses, to watch Harry do that slow pout and make grabby hands for him).

Louis doesn’t say anything, holding up his hands. “Nope!” he says, giggling.

He’s really a shit liar, Liam thinks fondly. “Well, thank you,” Liam says, looking around at everyone. “Whoever got me this, which definitely wasn’t Louis, you have truly terrible taste in fashion and I love you for it.” He holds it up, giggling. 

Louis smiles at him over the rim of his cup, and Liam’s heart goes all light and happy.

Liam had gotten Fiona pens with her name and “Head of Accounting” written on them, because he’d heard her complaining about never getting any recognition for all the extra work she does. She smiles down at them. “Thank you,” she says, looking around at each of the employees.

Liam waves at her, small, just so she knows. He can bend the rules just this once. 

* 

“Hey,” Liam says, nudging Louis when the party’s winding down. Zayn and Perrie are off somewhere, probably shagging; Nick and Harry are in the middle of a conversation about something, Liam isn’t sure. It sounds like it has to do with Harry’s farm, though. “Come here for a minute, I’ve got something to show you.” He’s nearly vibrating with excitement; he’s pretty pleased he’d been able to come up with this on such short notice. 

Louis grins at him, taking a sip of whatever he’s drinking. “All right,” he murmurs, taking Liam’s hand.

Liam bites his lip, leading him up to the roof, where he’d put a box of pizza and a bottle of soda earlier. There are more fairy lights that Liam had stolen from Nick, and a few chairs sitting around a table. “I didn’t know there was gonna be so much alcohol,” he murmurs. “Or I would’ve, like, done something better.”

Louis is quiet for a minute, looking around.

“Happy birthday, Lou,” he murmurs, hanging back, a little worried he’s done something wrong, crossed a line. He’s well aware of how romantic this could seem. 

Louis throws his arms around him, tight, sloshing the liquid all around. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Liam smiles, rubbing his back. “You’re welcome.”

They sit at the table, and Louis goes still. “What’s this?” he asks, picking up the carefully-wrapped present sitting there. “You didn’t have me for the Santa thing.” He shakes the box a bit.

“I know,” Liam says, and he’s delighted. He’s never been able to surprise Louis like this before. “It’s also your birthday.”

Louis smiles, wide and delighted. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

“You’re welcome.” He nudges him, opening the box of pizza. “I told Harry and Zayn to get up here pretty quickly, so I’d take some fast if I were you.”

“Right,” Louis says, setting aside the present without opening it. They eat quietly, and Liam’s heart is pounding.

He’s not like this, is the thing. He’s romantic, yeah, but he’s never been one to throw parties or anything. Not that — he reminds himself severely — this is romantic. This is... mates. It could just, to the wrong person, seem romantic. 

(He’s never thrown Danielle a party like this, he realises with a pang in his heart). 

Louis is staring at his lap with a small smile on his face. “Thank you,” he says again, just as they can hear the pounding footsteps on the stairs.

“Louis!” Harry shouts, flying at him and nearly knocking him over. “Happy birthday!” He gives him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. 

“You’re drunk,” Louis says, giggling and pushing at him. 

Then it’s a flurry of everyone — Zayn and Perrie, Fiona, Matt and Nick, even — hugging Louis, and it’s all laughing and shouting over one another.

Harry puts on music at some point and Liam dances along until he really _listens_ to it. He goes up to Harry, shaking his head. “This is terrible.”

“It is not!” Harry insists. “It’s great. My favorite band, actually, they —”

Louis taps Liam on the shoulder at that moment and Liam turns around, grinning, inappropriately grateful. “Yeah?”

“There was a second part to your gift,” Louis says, tugging him away so that they’re standing under the lights, leaning against the wall. “I didn’t give it to you in there.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a white envelope with _Liam_ written on it. “Um — they say,” he starts, rubbing his face, “they say that Christmas is the time to —”

Liam’s heart races, but he doesn’t interrupt, just nods. 

“The time to… say — um —” Louis’ mouth works for a minute. “Just read it,” he murmurs, and —

“Liam!” Comes Danielle’s voice, and then she’s running over to him.

Liam laughs, turning away from Louis when she presses up against his side and wraps his arms around her. “I thought I was meeting you at home!” he says, impossibly giddy.

“Harry told me to come up here, said you were having a party for your friend,” she says, grinning. “Decided to come surprise you.” She kisses his cheek.

He laughs, kissing her properly. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs. He turns back to Louis, arm wrapped loosely around her waist. “Sorry, what did you want to give me?” He asks, smiling.

Louis is staring at the two of them, mouth open a little bit. “Uh. Nothing,” he says, and Liam can’t see the envelope anymore. “You know what, it was stupid. Was — a day free of pranking, redeemable at any time. He smiles, thin. “Nice to see you, Danielle. Oh, Harry’s calling me.” He leaves without another word, and Liam stares after him, frowning. 

As soon as he’s gone, Liam wants to call him back. It had seemed serious, whatever Louis was going to say, not — not a prank thing. He frowns. Maybe he’d just wanted it to be something more. God, he’s all fucked up.

Danielle’s tugging on him, kissing his hair. “Tell me everything!” She squeezes his hand. “I’ve missed you so much, god.”

“Yeah,” he says and finally makes himself stop thinking about Louis. “Yeah, me too, babe.” He kisses her again, gentle.

She smiles into it. “We’re getting married,” she whispers.

He swallows hard, and he wants to pretend that the words don’t make him want to run, leave. “Yeah,” he says, kissing her again. “We are.”

“Eight months. Almost to the day.”

“I _know_ ,” he murmurs. He kisses her hard, wanting to be close to her. “Can we get out of here?” He asks in a whisper. “Please?”

“Do we have to go now? I want to see everyone,” she pouts. She gets a good look at his face, then, and frowns, squeezing his hand again. “Or — yeah, sure.”

He follows her out, half-waving to everyone. Like the coward he is, he doesn’t say goodbye to Louis.

He gets a text on his way back, from Louis. _Thanks for everything, Liam. Happy Christmas._

He closes his phone and doesn’t answer, leaning his head back against the seat and staring out the window.

* 

The thing is, he thinks, as he’s getting into bed, he’s never done this before. He doesn’t know if this is him having feelings for Louis or if it’s just wanting to kiss him, wanting to be close to him. It might be that Louis is there, always, when Danielle isn’t.

It’s a thousand things, but at the heart of it it’s just _Louis_. 

“I’m really happy,” Danielle tells him as she kisses him, sliding into bed, and he nods, sharp and jerky.

“Me, too,” he murmurs. He _is_ , that’s the thing, he’s happy with Danielle or he wouldn’t have stayed with her, Louis or no Louis. “Happy Christmas, darling.” God, it feels false to say it like that.

She smiles. “Happy Christmas,” she murmurs as she slides over on top of him, kissing him, hand at the back of his neck. 

*

The next morning, Liam’s got a series of texts from Louis.

 _Louis_ 00:12

_are you still coming to my new years party?_

_Louis_ 02:43

_it’s all right if you aren’t coming I just need to know for snacks etc_

_Louis_ 08:52

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME EVERYONE SHOWER ME IN LOVE_

The last one’s a part of a group message, sent to Liam and Harry and a bunch of other numbers he doesn’t recognize. He rubs his hands over his face, feet flat on the floor.

Danielle rolls over and throws an arm around his waist, tugging him back, gentle. “You’re not working today, are you?” she mumbles, sitting up a bit and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

Liam shakes his head, yawning.

“Then get back to bed,” she says. “’m sleepy.”

He nods and lies down, smiling at her.

She blinks at him, sleep-slow.

“D’you want to go to that New Year’s party Louis is throwing?” he asks, quiet like she likes in the morning. She shouts sometimes, when he’s too loud. She has a habit of waking up with headaches.

She nods, curling up under the sheet and finding his hand, lacing their fingers together and watching how they fit. “Sure,” she says. “Sounds like fun.” Even as she’s saying it, she sounds distant.

Liam frowns. “If you’re sure,” he says slowly. “He just texted me and I remembered I hadn’t asked you about it.”

“I’d love to go,” she says in the bright voice she generally saves for when she’s lying. “Really get to know your friends, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says.

They get comfortable again, him on his back and her head on his chest. She traces patterns on his stomach. He can tell she’s thinking but he doesn’t break the silence to ask. This is calm, anyway. He likes this kind of s.

“That was a nice party you threw for Louis,” she murmurs.

He feels a bit weird hearing her acknowledge it. “Yeah, well,” he says, and has no idea how to continue. “Thanks,” he finally settles on. “He goes on about his birthday enough, figured it was time he finally had a party. Maybe next year he’ll be less insufferable.” He means it to come out as a gentle teasing, but it sounds too serious for that.

“Hopefully,” she says, kissing his shoulder. “You’ve never done anything like that for me,” she says slowly, like each word is being pulled out of her.

He closes his eyes and tightens his arm around her. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs, kissing again. “I mean. I know I’m not home most of the time and any time we get to spend together is a bit of a surprise to you.” She laughs, weak. “Just – it was just nice.” She sits up, giving him a little smile. “Think I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Thought you wanted to sleep some more?” he asks, guilt creeping up him. He resolves himself to throw her the best party he’s ever thrown, next time it’s her birthday.

She shakes her head and gets up, grabbing her towel and clothes for the day. “Nah. I’m awake now, might as well.” She shrugs. It means to be nonchalant, he can tell, but it misses the mark.

She leaves the room and he scrubs his hands over his face, groaning. He doesn’t know how he keeps fucking up like this.

The water turns on in the bathroom and he heads downstairs. He can make her breakfast, at least, and maybe that’ll be enough of a peace offering to get them through Christmas.

*

She comes down when he’s plating the eggs and sausage, wearing an old sweatshirt of his and jeans. She stops in the doorway, smiling.

“Hungry?” he asks, hope at the edge of the word.

She nods and kisses his cheek, taking her plate and sitting down. He’s probably got a lipstick mark on his cheek; she leaves one on the fork when she takes her first bite. He doesn’t much care. It’s just nice to have her back.

“So,” she says, taking a sip of orange juice. He feels almost nervous at her tone. “How terrible is this party at Louis’ gonna be?”

He laughs, relieved, and shakes his head. “It shouldn’t be at all terrible,” he says. “I went to that party he threw when he moved into that new flat of his, it was a lot nicer than I expected.” He grins. “And this time there’ll be alcohol. I’m not gonna drink but everyone else’ll be pretty fun to watch.”

“All right,” she says, smiling and taking a bite of toast. “Whatever you say, love.” She finishes her food and kisses his forehead this time, walking into the living room. “I’m gonna go to my mum’s for a bit!” she shouts.

He frowns. “I thought we were going tomorrow.”

“We are, but apparently she’s afraid her spread won’t be good enough for your mum and dad, or something?” She rolls her eyes, coming back into the kitchen. Her hair’s tied up now, lipstick reapplied. “You can just stay here, it’s fine,” she says. “All right?”

He nods, standing up and giving her a hug. “Will you be home for dinner?”

She nods and leaves, grabbing her purse and waving on her way out.

He sits back down and eats his own breakfast much more slowly.

Finally, he heads back upstairs for his phone and replies to Louis.

 _Liam_ 11:17

_we’ll both be thereeeee, thanks_

_Louis_ 11:19

_cool thanks_

It’s much shorter than his usual texts, but Liam tries not to read too much into it, focusing instead on what on earth he’s going to wear to Danielle’s parents’ tomorrow.

*

Christmas itself is a bustling affair. Liam’s and Danielle’s parents switch off who hosts every year, and Liam’s mum and dad show up a half hour early, as they always do, with a bottle of wine and offers to help at every available opportunity.

“Mum’s going to freak out if she doesn’t stop,” Danielle hisses in his ear after a few minutes of Karen trying to help make the cranberry sauce. “Get her away.”

Liam calls both of his parents into the sitting room and gets them talking about their own lives, laughing at all the right points and being as much of a distraction himself as he can be.

“Thank you,” Danielle murmurs when dinner’s ready, kissing his cheek.

He nods, weary.

The rest of the night goes much like that, and by the time dinner’s through he’s ready to drop. Danielle takes pity on him and they make it out of there before ten, which is earlier than they ever have.

Liam groans, leaning back in the car. “I hate Christmas.”

“You love Christmas.”

“No, I love when we have it at my mum’s. She’s not so nervous.”

Danielle shrugs. “That’s family for you,” she says, sarcastic.

Liam doesn’t say anything. He’s not sure what she’s talking about half the time.

He drops onto the bed when he gets home, groaning. “Happy Christmas,” he tells her, holding his arms out for a cuddle.

She kisses his cheek and rolls away a bit, leaving some space between them. “Do you really hate my mum?” she asks.

He frowns. “No,” he says, more than a bit baffled. “I was just saying I’m a bit more comfortable with _my_ mum, Dan, not that I hated yours.”

She continues as though she hasn’t heard him, which is one of her more annoying habits. “I know you don’t ever get to see her, but could you please try to be kind about her?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, very seriously. “I didn’t mean to offend you like that.”

She nods, finally looking at him, mouth twisted a bit. “Okay,” she murmurs, kissing him, soft. She scoots closer, head on his arm.

He smiles and rubs her back, drifting off. 

*

“What do I wear?” Danielle asks, staring at their closet with her hands on her hips.

Liam shrugs. “Whatever you want, really. It’s not fancy. Just mates from work.”

“And me,” she says quietly.

Liam frowns. “Well, yeah. You’re my date.”

She sighs, pulling on a black dress, getting her hair out of the way and looking at herself in the mirror. “I still wish we could have gone to the party I wanted to go to.”

He tries very hard not to snap at her when he says, “You didn’t say that when I asked, though.”

“I wanted to make you happy.”

“I see that’s gone all out the window,” he mumbles, putting on his watch and making sure his shirt looks okay.

He looks up and she’s glaring at him. “Oh, honey,” he says quietly, going over to her and wrapping her in a hug. “It’ll be okay. And it’s New Year’s, yeah? This one’s gonna be the best year. We’re gonna be _married_ ,” he says, resting a hand on her cheek and rubbing his thumb across it softly.

“I know,” she murmurs. “I just get the feeling that they don’t like me very much, sometimes.” She pauses. “Or, not they. Harry likes me fine.”

He has a feeling he knows who she’s talking about, but – “Nick likes you,” he says.

She gives him a look. “Louis,” she sighs. “Louis won’t talk to me.”

“Louis is…” He trails off. “He likes you,” he says. He knows it comes out weak. “He just doesn’t know you yet.” He tugs at her arm. “Come on, let’s get going. We can get ice cream beforehand.”

“So he does treat me differently,” she says, arms crossed. She doesn’t budge when he tries to move her.

He drops his arm. “He doesn’t treat you differently,” he says. “It’s like I said. He just doesn’t know you, so he’s careful.”

“He’s known me for years!”

“And you’ve never been to a party at his.”

“Neither have you, before now,” she says, and pulls on a jacket, grabbing her purse. “It’s okay, god.” She looks at the time. “Ice cream?”

He nods, kissing her forehead and pulling her out.

*

It’s already loud by the time they get there.

The door’s propped open and Liam pushes his way inside, eyebrows raised. The lights are dimmed and people are dancing. “Huh,” he says, looking around. “Didn’t know it was big enough to dance.”

“Everywhere’s big enough to dance if you try!” Louis shouts from behind him. That’s all the warning Liam gets before Louis launches himself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck. “Liam! I’m glad you came,” he says.

Liam’s a bit overwhelmed. He looks at Danielle and shrugs, jostling Louis.

“Danielle!” he says. He throws his arms around her, giving her just as severe a hug as he’d given Liam. “I’m so glad you could make it. You’ve never been to my house, have you?” He drags her away, and at the last second Liam takes her purse when she tosses it at him.

“Want a drink?” Harry asks from right next to him, holding out a cup.

“God. Yeah,” Liam says, taking a sip without thinking. He winces. “What is this?”

He shrugs. “Nick’s bartending,” he says, hands behind his back, surveying the party. He looks very serene. “If you ask me, bartending isn’t one of his more prominent skills, but I’ll let him have his fun.”

“Right,” Liam says, a bit baffled. He takes another sip. It burns a little less this time. “And why are you letting him do anything?”

“Hmm?” Harry looks at him, frowning. “Oh.” His expression clears. “We’re friends,” he says, looking back out at the group. “I’m supporting him as a friend.” He says it with an air of finality.

Liam kind of wants to give him a hug and so he does, quick, clapping him on the back. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs.

Harry gives a deep sigh and doesn’t let go when Liam tries to pull back. “I know,” he says. “I just want it to be okay now, you know?”

“I know,” he says, nodding with it. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be done about it but wait, I’m afraid,” Harry says. He catches eyes with someone, Liam’s not sure who, and waves, walking away from him.

He fidgets in the corner, taking another sip. It’s awful, but manageable. Nothing like that drink Louis had had him try. The Tommo.

He smiles down into his cup, thinking about it.

“Liam!” Danielle says, sounding a bit out of breath. Her hair’s windswept for some reason.

“I showed her all around,” Louis says, giving him a weird little salute. “Outside and everything.” He pauses. “Right. Must be off, Liam, got lots more to do. Host duties to complete.”

“Right,” Liam says, and watches him walk away. He laughs and takes Danielle’s hand, leading her to a recently vacated part of the couch.

“Want to dance?” she teases.

He laughs. “Maybe in a bit. Gotta have another drink first.” It takes him a second to realize she’s just staring at him. “What?” he asks.

“You’re different,” she says, narrowing her eyes like she’s studying him. He’s acutely aware of it. “I don’t know what it is but you’re just – different.”

“Nah,” he murmurs. “Same old Liam.” He tries for a smile.

“I suppose,” she says carefully. She stands up. “I’m gonna have a drink,” she says. “I’ll get you something, don’t worry.”

She walks off before Liam can say anything.

“Liam!” Zayn says, and high-fives him. “Ace party, eh?”

Liam nods, doesn’t trust himself to say anything. It’s all so much.

Perrie tugs Zayn away and Liam settles back against the couch, waiting for Danielle.

The couch dips and she hands him a drink wordlessly. “You’re not going to get drunk, are you?” she asks.

“I don’t get drunk, you know that.”

She pauses. “Except for with Louis.”

“No, that’s not – it’s not on purpose,” he tells her. “I drink when I get lonely, that’s all.” He nudges their shoulders together. “I’m not lonely when I’m _with_ you.”

She smiles, small. “Yeah?”

He nods.

She rests her head on his shoulder. “Will you judge me terribly if _I_ get drunk?” she asks.

Liam laughs, rubbing her back. “Not at all.”

*

Louis jumps up onto a speaker and nearly falls off. “One minute until midnight!” he shouts.

The crowd cheers. Liam takes a brief moment to feel bad for Louis’ neighbors, but – hey. It’s New Year’s Eve.

Danielle grins, tugging him closer where they’re dancing together. “We’re getting married this year!” she shouts in his ear.

He nods, grinning at her.

They start the countdown and Louis throws confetti at everyone, grinning from the speaker.

 _Five, four_.

He’d rather kiss Louis at midnight than Danielle, he realizes, and he hasn’t had nearly enough alcohol to be thinking that but there it is.

 _Three, two_.

Danielle kisses him half a second too early and he melts into it easily, hands going to her waist. She’s giggling against his mouth and resting her forehead against his.

“Happy New Year!” she shouts.

Somewhere else, Louis is laughing loud enough to be heard over the music.

He kisses her again, and presses the words against her lips.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t look at Louis. 

*

Liam doesn’t write songs, really, no matter what Louis says. Or, he does, but he doesn’t finish them. It’s mostly snippets of lyrics and beats he thinks would sound good that he records on his phone and plays sometimes when he’s in the shower.

Lately, though, all he’s wanted to do was write. He’s always got a beat in his head and he’s been humming to himself. Maybe it’s the Christmas season, he muses (or maybe it’s the love situation he’s got going on — he forces the thought out of his head as soon as it’s there).

He’s at work one day, humming to himself. Nick comes over, drumming his hands on his desk. “You’ve got a good voice,” he says. “You perform anymore?”

Liam shrugs, shuffling a stack of papers so he doesn’t have to look at him. “I mean, sometimes. Sort of.”

Nick nods. “You’re good,” he says. “Like. I hear you singing, and you’ve got a nice voice, you know?” He smiles, hitting his desk again just before he leaves.

Liam doesn’t say anything, looking after him. 

Sometimes, for all his faults, Nick can be really kind. He forgets that sometimes.

He leans back in his chair and plays with the cuff of his sleeve, buttoning and unbuttoning it quickly, nervous. He could take classes again, he thinks. He could teach, maybe. It’s what he’d always wanted to do: teach music, if his own music career hadn’t worked out (which, obviously, it hadn’t).

On a whim, because the day’s not very busy and he’s feeling a little nostalgic, he looks up how much classes would be.

*

“What’s that?” comes a voice from behind him.

Liam jumps about a meter into the air. He turns around to find Louis hovering over his shoulder, grinning. “Nothing,” he says, but doesn’t click away.

Louis leans forward. He’s wearing a new cologne, Liam notices idly. “Music lessons?” he asks. “In London?”

He nods, slow. “I know it’d be difficult but — I dunno, it might be fun to try to teach. I’d have to get my certificate, though.”

Louis hums, reading the page. “Is that what you’d want to do?”

“Well, I’m saving up money for the wedding,” he says, because it feels selfish to want it when they definitely can’t afford it.

Louis shrugs, looking at the screen. “It’s not that expensive. And, I dunno, seems like you never do anything for yourself.”

He swallows, not looking at him. “I do plenty.”

Louis scoffs. “When’s the last time you, like, bought something for yourself?” he asks.

And, that — well. It has been a while since he bought anything real. “I bought myself a pack of gum this morning,” he says. 

“I mean something _significant_ , Liam.”

“What counts as significant, though?” he asks, quite sensibly, he thinks.

Louis throws his hands up, moving so he’s leaning against Liam’s desk. “Like a suit you’ve had your eye on, or a new briefcase — don’t pretend I’ve not seen you with the same one you’ve had for nine years — or, fuck, a wallet that you’ve not taped back together. Jesus, a _CD_. Anything.”

He shrugs, trying not to let his hurt show through. It’s true but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting. “I’m saving up for the wedding.”

“Like it’s going to happen, after three years,” Louis snaps, loud, and instantly his eyes go wide. “Fuck. Liam. I’m sorry.”

Liam goes still. 

The general hum of the office has died down by this point, and he’s acutely aware of how much attention everyone’s giving the two of them. He slowly pushes his chair back, standing up. He doesn’t make eye contact. “I’m going to go outside,” he says, very softly.

“Liam, please.” He follows him, grabbing his arm and trying to turn him around.

He shakes him off, going out the door without another word.

He sits on the bench outside, head in his hands. He’s not angry, really. He’s sure that Louis isn’t the only one thinking it, that this wedding’s never going to happen. God, he’s not sure himself half the time.

But to hear him say it like that, so fucking casually. It hurts, like he’s been punched, and not the way he’s learned to expect from Louis.

He shivers, hard, knee bouncing. He should’ve brought a jacket or something, fuck.

The door opens and Harry steps out, wearing a coat and a hat and a scarf and carrying a bag of grapes. “What happened?” he asks, sitting down. He takes his scarf off, handing it to Liam, and rubs his arm quickly, putting his other arm around him.

He grabs it, wrapping it around his neck and leaning against Harry. “Louis’s being a dick.”

“He’s always a dick.”

Which isn’t true, really, but he doesn’t want to get into it with him now. “More than usual, then.”

Harry hums. “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I’m a good listener, though, everyone at the clinic said so.”

Liam sniffs. “Clinic?”

Harry shrugs and pops a grape into his mouth. “They offered some classes, talking to people about their problems. Dead dogs and stuff. Was weird but I got good marks. Certificate, as well.”

“Right,” he says, nodding. He’s not sure any of it’s true, but that’s how he feels about ninety percent of the time around Harry. He shakes his head. “I’m not mad at him.”

Harry frowns, watching him. “You’re crying, though.”

Liam wipes at his cheeks, unaware that he had been. THat’s great, isn’t it, he’s a walking cliche. “Well. I’m not mad.”

“Well,” Harry murmurs, eating another grape. “Why’re you crying, then?”

Liam takes a minute to think about how he’s going to say it, trying to wipe at his cheeks without being too obvious about it. “I’m just stressed, I suppose.”

Harry shakes his head. “That’s a terrible answer. You’re stressed every day of your life. You’re stressed more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“S’because I have to deal with you idiots.” It’s meant to come out teasing, but it misses the mark. He pauses. “Sorry.”

Harry shrugs. “Nothing I’ve not heard before.” He pauses. “You sure you’re not mad? I know you and Louis are codependent and all that, but you are allowed to be upset.” 

Liam laughs sarcastically, closing his eyes and leaning back against the cool brick. “He doesn’t think Dani and I are gonna last. He thinks I should take music lessons, use the money that I’m saving up for the wedding, think about starting teaching.” He pauses. When he says it like that, it doesn’t sound like a very bad thing at all. 

“Well, isn’t that a good thing, then?” he asks, voice reasonable and calm.

“He doesn’t think I’m gonna get married, Haz.”

“Who gives a shit what he thinks? You’re the one in the relationship. Jesy doesn’t think any relationship can last, I’ve heard her say it to you a thousand times. And you’re not crying on a bench because of her.”

He nods. “I know.” And he does, it just feels different when Louis says it. He can’t shrug it off as easily as he can shrug off the comments made by everyone else, similar though they might be.

Harry’s voice goes gentle and teasing. “I mean, this is the same kid who thinks Nick’s the scum of the earth. He can’t always be right.”

And Liam knows, he _knows_ , that Harry’s right. He thinks about Nick complimenting his voice without any sort of agenda, earlier that day. “This is different.” He twists his mouth.

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he says when he’s thought about it for a while. “He’s known me for as long as I’ve been engaged. Not like Perrie or Jesy, or you, even. Just him.”

Harry snorts. “Right, but can he really be objective about it, considering?”

“What d’you mean?” He turns to him, frowning.

“I — nothing.” He coughs, awkward and loud, and looks around at the snow. “We should get inside. It’s gonna start storming in a minute, the doorknob might lock and then where would we be? Frozen outside, that’s where, and I’ve not got my phone.” He gets up, adjusting his coat and not looking at Liam.

Liam’s frown deepens but he follows Harry inside. 

Louis is talking animatedly to Aimee, hands waving around, one holding a map and the other a handful of pipe cleaners. “Gonna get out of here,” he’s saying. “Leave the country, maybe. Go to America.”

Aimee snorts, rolling her eyes. “Good luck with that,” she says, taking the pipe cleaners from him. 

Liam keeps walking.

“I am!” Louis shouts. 

Liam’s heart feels weird and full at that. He sits down, and he tries hard not to think about reasons Louis might not be that impartial when it comes to him and Danielle. Not what Harry meant, he reminds himself. Louis is his friend, that’s all. Wants Liam to be happy. And even if he did want — he doesn’t let himself finish the thought.

Louis gives him a small smile, later, tense, and when Liam returns it, he tries not to read too much into the way Louis’ shoulders visibly relax.

They’re friends, is the thing. First and foremost, they’ve always been friends. And while Liam knows Louis might have had a thing for him at the beginning, it’s gone. Louis had dated Hannah, and he’s been out with girls. He’s never had a problem telling Liam about any of them.

If he — and god, he feels like the world’s biggest dick thinking like this — still had feelings for Liam, or whatever, he’d have had to feel a little awkward.

Wouldn’t he?

He leans forward, head crashing onto his keyboard. He stays there until he feels less like his head’s going to explode, and erases the keysmash.

*

That night, he goes home and kisses Danielle as soon as he gets inside, hands on her waist. He loves her, God, he _loves_ her. It repeats in his head like a mantra. He does. 

She smiles up at him, no hesitation or worry. “Yeah?” She asks, a little breathless. “What’s that for, then?”

He shrugs, kissing her nose. He lifts her up and sets her on the counter, standing between her legs. “Just love you,” he says, hand resting on her cheek, fingers trailing down her neck.

She laughs, clearly thrown off. “I love you, too, darling.”

He kisses her again, harder this time. He’s happy, like this. He _is_.

* 

Later, when they’re lying in bed together, as his hand’s tracing patterns on Danielle’s back, he mentions it. “I think I might want to go to London, take some music lessons. Try to get out there again, you know?”

She snorts, lifting her head up. “Absolutely not.”

The hurt must show on his face, because she softens her own. “Oh, babe. You really think we can afford it?”

“I mean, I thought maybe.” His voice goes soft, awkward. “Was just an idea.”

“I’d love for you to live your dream, babe, but I just don’t think we can handle it right now,” she says, wincing. “I’m sorry. Maybe in a few years, when we’re more settled down?”

Oh.

He feels the hope that Louis had instilled in him earlier drip out of him. He nods, going flat on the bed. “Right.”

“I’m not saying never,” she says in the voice she uses when that’s exactly what she’s saying. “Just not now.”

He nods, staring up at the ceiling. He feels a bit like a kid that’s been caught misbehaving. He hates when she gets like this.

She lifts her head up to look at him. “I’m just being honest.”

“I know,” he says, toneless. “God, I know you are.”

“Hey,” she snaps. “Don’t you do that to me. That’s not fair. I’m just telling you the truth. You don’t get to drop everything and just —”

“Fly around the world?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at her. “I don’t get to leave for a few weeks while you get to go wherever you want?”

“You’d hate it!” She says. “You love being home, you’d hate being in a big city like that.”

“I’ve never _been_ , how do you know?” he asks her.

“Because, I know you, I’ve known you nearly a decade. This whole thing, living out of suitcases, it’s my thing. Not yours.”

“I’m not talking about living out of a suitcase, just relocating for a while.”

“Until the next big thing comes along.”

“This is the only big thing I’ve wanted in ages.”

Her face softens and her eyes trace his face. “I know, babe.”

He laughs, toneless. “Do you?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “I know this is what you want. We just can’t afford it, you know? Gotta save up everything for the wedding.”

 _It’s been three years_ , he thinks but doesn’t say. _I don’t think you want to marry me._ “Yeah.” _Are you sure you want this?_

“I’m so excited,” she whispers, kissing his shoulder. “Picked out flowers yesterday.”

They’ve been engaged for three years and she’s just thought about the flowers she wants. He nods, jerkily. “Good. Have to show me later.”

She rolls onto her back, not touching him anymore. “You’re mad.”

“Nah.”

“Christ, stop lying to me. Yes, you are.”

He shrugs. “It was just an idea. I was saying to Louis, even, I knew it was a stupid idea but he was just so — insistent, like.”

“Louis was?”

“Yeah,” he says, closing his eyes. She goes quiet long enough that he frowns. “What?”

She narrows her eyes. “You and Louis are pretty close these days.”

He snorts. “We’ve been close for ages. He’s the only person keeping me sane in that office.”

She still doesn’t say anything. And oh, god, he thinks, she _knows_. Then, finally, she says, “I’m glad you’ve got people to talk to. I get worried about you all alone here.”

He swallows, panic fading. He wants this, he _does_ , the Louis thing is a passing fancy. Three-year passing fancy. Whatever. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Me, too. ‘m fine, though.”

“We should invite Louis over for dinner sometime. And his girlfriend, if he’s got one.”

It hits him then that he doesn’t know. Louis hasn’t mentioned anyone else, not since the time he talked about Eleanor. “Yeah,” he says, though, because he has to answer. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

“Good,” she says, sitting up. She buttons up her shirt the rest of the way. “I’m gonna go have some tea, all right?”

He nods, watching her leave. He rubs his hands over his face and feels like the world’s biggest dick.

* 

When he gets in the next morning, Louis is already there. He launches into a story about a bird he’d nearly hit on his way into work — “I had to swerve across three lanes! Liam, it was harrowing” — and he relaxes.

He waits until Louis takes a breath to get out what he needs to say. “Hey, d’you want to have dinner at mine sometime? Dani said she’d cook. She just feels odd, not knowing you. Considering you’re, like. My best friend or whatever.” Christ, he hasn’t felt this awkward in ages.

Louis frowns a little, tilting his head. “You want me to?” His voice is soft, tentative.

“Sure,” he says, keeping his own voice as composed as possible. “Think it’d be nice.” He smiles.

Louis nods, slow. “Sure.” His voice goes teasing as he adds, “Best friend.” 

It feels empty, somehow, but Liam ignores it, goes throughout his day as normally as he can. 

Louis is more reserved than he usually is and Liam tries his very hardest not to look into it. 

*

In the middle of January, in the middle of the night, Liam’s phone rings. 

“Hello?” he says, clearing his throat and sitting up. 

“Liam, hi,” Louis says, sounding frantic. 

Danielle hums. “Okay?” She asks, rolling over onto her stomach and pressing her face into the pillow. 

“Yeah, it’s just Louis,” he whispers, kissing the back of her head and walking out into the living room, yawning wide. “Why’d you call me at two in the morning?” 

“Shit, is it that late?” Louis sounds distracted, worried. “I’m sorry, Liam. I didn’t mean it.”

“S’okay.” He sits down on the couch and rubs at his eyes. “Did you just want to have a conversation, or…?” 

“Right. Um.” Louis sounds absolutely panicked. “Are you busy right now?”

Liam frowns, looking down at his knees. “I was asleep,” he says dumbly. 

“I know. I’m so sorry. I just — I need to talk to someone?” he offers. “And Eleanor’s gone.” 

“Mm,” Liam says, walking into his bedroom. He grabs clothes for the day and his shoes, walking back out into the living room to get dressed. “So am I driving to your flat, then?” 

Louis goes quiet. “Hmm?” 

“You need to talk to someone,” Liam says around another yawn. “And I’m gonna fall asleep if I don’t go outside or something.”

“You don’t have to,” Louis says. Liam can hear how pleased he is, though, and it makes him go warm. 

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “Meet at yours?”

“Sure.” 

*

Louis is waiting outside when Liam gets there, a mug of tea in his hands, bundled up in a giant parka. “Here,” he says when Liam gets out. “I felt bad that you’d be the only cold one, so I sat outside for a bit. “

Liam laughs, soft. He rubs his hands together before taking the tea. They walk inside and he stretches, yawning enough that his jaw cracks. 

When he opens his eyes, Louis is watching him, quiet and careful. 

“Yeah?” Liam murmurs. 

“You came over here,” Louis says quietly. 

Liam feels put on the spot, like he’s fucked up. “I did,” he agrees, looking down. “That okay?”

“Yeah,” Louis says. “Just. My problem feels less big now that you’ve driven over here.” 

Liam snorts. “What is it?” 

He bites his lip. “Promise not to laugh?”

“No, but I’ll try,” Liam says. He’s honest, at least.

Louis looks more embarrassed than Liam has ever seen him. “I wanted — fuck. Okay. So. I’m a petty fucker, yeah?” 

This is gonna be awesome. Liam doesn’t even mind missing sleep if this is what it means. “Absolutely,” he says slowly. 

“And… I was sad, one day,” he says delicately. “And I might have put an ad out on Craigslist. Not like that!” he clarifies, before Liam can say anything. “For a Nandos that had just opened.”

Liam frowns. “There’s no Nandos here.”

“I know.” He bites his lip. “I wanted to see how many of them would apply for the job and then I could laugh at them,” he says. 

Liam tries really hard not to laugh. He fails. “You’re a dick,’ he manages to say around it. 

“It gets better.” 

Liam raises an eyebrow. 

“Well. Since there’s no Nandos in the city, mine would be the first. And… the local paper wants to interview me about it,” he says in a rush. “When they called I didn’t know what they were talking about and I was kind of drunk at the time and I agreed and the interview is tomorrow and I don’t know what to do,” he gets out, biting his lip. 

Liam stares at him. “Why didn’t you just cancel when you’d realised what had happened?” 

Louis presses his lips together. “Uh,” he says, picking at a hole in his shorts. Liam doesn’t stare at how much of Louis’ thigh he can see. This is about Louis, not how fit he is. “I hadn’t thought about that.” 

Liam snorts. “So you were just gonna… do the interview?”

He nods, not making eye contact. “I’m an idiot,” he says, laughing. 

“You are,” Liam confirms, but he keeps his voice light and kind. He yawns, big. 

“I’m sorry I dragged you over here,” Louis says, frowning. “You’re welcome to sleep here if you want. I’ve got some blankets, and the couch is decently comfortable.” 

He shouldn’t stay. He should leave and spend the night with Danielle, not in Louis’ flat — but god, he’s exhausted. It’s three in the morning and that makes his decision for him. “Yeah, okay,” he says. 

Louis smiles, small and pleased. “I’ll go get you things, then.” 

The blankets smell like Louis, of course, and Liam burrows into them, trying to focus on anything but the fact that he’s sleeping in Louis’ _flat_. When that remains all he can think about, he focuses on not getting hard under the blankets. 

That fails, too, but he does succeed in not touching himself until he falls asleep. 

Louis wakes him up with a hand on his shoulder, mug of tea in hand. “Morning,” he murmurs. “Want to drive to work together?”

“Hmm?” Liam says. He looks down at his clothes. “‘m all wrinkly.”

Louis waves a hand. “You look good.” He’s still so close, and in Liam’s sleep-addled brain that means he could kiss him if he wanted. He doesn’t, but only barely catches himself. 

He takes the mug of tea and blows over the top of it, glad to have something to hold onto. 

“Thanks for coming over last night,” Louis murmurs, looking down. “You didn’t have to.”

Liam waves a hand. “Anytime,” he says, leaning his head back against the couch. He smiles at him, hands wrapped around the mug. 

Louis goes red, but Liam doesn’t comment on it as he takes a sip. 

*

“Hey,” Liam says, clapping a bit to get everyone’s attention. “My mum’s coming in so I can take her out to lunch in a few minutes, and I just wanted — everyone, please be on your best behaviour. Don’t hit on her again, Simon,” he says, raising an eyebrow toward where Simon’s sat in a corner. 

“I wasn’t hitting on her! I was showing her what I do here,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms. He’s pushing his chest out unnecessarily, Liam can see. “Not my fault if she was into it.” 

Liam grimaces. “She wasn’t,” he says. “Just. If you could all be nice?” 

As he’s saying that, his mum walks in, windswept and smiling. “James!” she says, grinning and wrapping her arms around him in a giant hug. 

He can’t even be embarrassed by the nickname, not now that she’s finally here. “I’m almost ready,” he says. “Just have to finish up a couple of things.” 

Everyone’s quiet; it’s a far cry from the last time, when Louis had nearly hit her in the head with a beanie while Harry, with newly-dyed blonde hair, laughed and encouraged him. 

“So,” she says, looking around while Liam types. She keeps her voice quiet. “Which one’s Louis?” Last time, he’d gotten her out of there quickly enough that she hadn’t met anyone. 

“Mum!” he whispers. 

“Come on,” she murmurs. “Just want to know who the guy you’re always going on about is.” 

He goes bright red but nods toward him, biting his lip and looking down.

Louis is smiling, small, and he’s still. Liam struggles not to blush.

“He’s cute,” she whispers. 

He shakes his head at her. “Can we get going, please?” he asks. 

“Oh, fine,” she murmurs, rubbing his back as he leads her out. 

*

On Valentine’s Day, Liam gets a text from Harry at five AM.

The buzz of his phone wakes him up and he frowns and stares at it for a good few minutes before the buttons swim into view.

 _Harry_ 5:02 AM

_VALENTINE’S DAY MISSION! DREAM TEAM ASSEMBLE. xx_

He groans, setting it back down. Danielle turns toward him in her sleep and he wraps around her, kissing the back of her neck. He falls asleep quickly and stays that way for another two hours, when he gets a call. “Mmph,” he says into the phone, yawning behind his hand. 

“I texted you!” Harry says in lieu of a greeting, voice put out. “Also, happy Valentine’s.” 

Liam stifles a yawn, padding into the hallway. “You texted me at five.” 

Harry’s voice is obnoxiously chipper. “And now it’s seven. The best time to get into work and help me out.”

Liam shakes his head, trying to blink past the sleep. He should put a ban on co-workers calling him in the early morning, next thing he knows Nick will be demanding his attention. “Harry, it’s _Valentine’s Day_.”

“I have a surprise for you?” he offers. 

Liam pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ve got a fiancee in my bed,” he says. “Can’t it wait?” 

“If I told you it couldn’t, would you come? It’s time-sensitive.” He’s talking more quickly than he usually does, always a sign he’s frantic. “It’s a Valentine’s Day surprise, Liam, please. I’ve called Lou but he wouldn’t answer. You’re my only hope.” 

Liam rubs his eyes. “Fine,” he says. “Give me an hour.” 

“I thought —”

“An hour,” he says, more firmly. “That’s still an hour earlier than I usually come in.”

“All right,” Harry says. “One hour until the Dream Team _activates_ ,” he says, sounding entirely too delighted. 

Instead of figuring out whatever that’s supposed to mean, Liam hangs up and goes back into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of their bed. 

Danielle stirs, looking at him. “Hey,” she murmurs, reaching for him, squeezing his leg. “Time for work?”

“Harry wants me to come in early and help him with something,” he whispers, kissing her forehead. “I’ve got a bit of time, though,” he murmurs as he kisses her. She giggles, sinking back against the sheets, and he nips at her lip. 

He leaves five minutes later than he should, but there’s a fresh love bite on his shoulder and that alone has him feeling amazing. He sings in his car on the way to work, turning the radio up. 

Harry’s sitting outside, knees bouncing, with a box next to him. “Liam!” he says, when Liam gets out of his car. “Liam, love of my life, do you have a key?”

“Yeah,” he says, yawning and looking through his keys to find the right one. Nick tried to paint something onto the end of it, to make it discernible, but the paint’s long since faded. “Cleaners not here yet?” he asks when he finally finds it, walking to the door. 

Harry fidgets and gets off the bench, stretching. Liam’s pretty sure he’s wearing a red jumper. It looks fuzzy. “They let me in and then I got started but I accidentally let the door shut because I realised I’d left some stuff in my car.”

Liam nods. He’s entirely unsurprised. “Right,” he says. He lets them in, shivering at the sudden warmth and blowing into his cupped hands.

When they get upstairs, Harry goes to his desk and hands Liam a muffin. “Happy Valentine’s,” he says around a mouthful. “Sorry if I stopped you from getting laid.”

Liam ignores the comment and frowns at the muffin. “Did you make this?”

Harry shrugs. “Might’ve done. It’s good, though, even Nick said.”

Liam sets it down. It smells good, but Liam’s been burned too many times in the past. He’ll throw it out as soon as Harry’s back is turned. “So what am I helping with?” he asks again.

Harry holds his arms out in a grand sweeping gesture. “This.” 

Liam finally gets to look around the room, and widens his eyes. “Harry,” he says, very calmly, staring at a pink wreath that’s hanging above Nick’s door. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I’m not done,” Harry says, looking around at the hearts and sparkles all over the place.

Liam frowns. “There’s more?” 

He nods and leads Liam over to his desk, setting the box down and opening it. It’s absolutely full of crepe paper and tinsel and hearts. 

Liam blinks.

“The thing is, I’m an excellent boyfriend,” Harry starts. “Only Nick doesn’t know that, see, since I’ve never really been a boyfriend except for that one time with Cara, so we’re kind of… not dating? I guess? I’ve tried talking to him about it and he just goes quiet, which is one of his more annoying habits.” 

Liam nods. “Right.” 

Harry frowns. “Like, last night, I brought it up, _wouldn’t it be nice if we were together?_ , and he just played with Puppy for a while and mumbled something about my lost youth. Wouldn’t look at me.” He worries at his lower lip. “I thought it was love, but maybe not. Maybe he’s just playing me like a violin. Did you know Nick plays the violin?” He looks at Liam expectantly. 

“Er,” Liam starts.

Harry sighs. “Sorry. I just — I want to show him, you know? He keeps making fun of me and calling me a slag, which — okay, I kind of am, but not now. I just want to be a slag with him.” He frowns deeper.

Liam bites his lip. “I’ll help,” he says. “Just promise that when this works out, you won’t have sex on my desk.” 

“Does —” Harry starts, and cuts himself off. 

Liam closes his eyes. “You’ve already done it, haven’t you,” he murmurs. 

Harry doesn’t answer and Liam makes a mental note to buy a crate full of Lysol. 

* 

Louis comes in when they’re hanging up the streamers around the door.

He drops his briefcase on the desk, raising an eyebrow. “What’s this, then?” he asks. He looks like he hasn’t showered, and his shirt is wrinkled. He’s not shaven, and his eyes look bloodshot. 

Liam wants desperately to kiss him. He puts that thought out of his mind. _Danielle_ , he tells himself sternly. If he does it enough, it’ll stick. He’ll forget about Louis and only want to kiss her. 

(A smarter person than him would probably break up with Danielle and figure it out on his own, but he does love her. And he’s scared, maybe, scared that this Louis thing is going to pass, that he’s _wrong_.

He’s never thought he was wrong before, not about her, not about things like this. He’s never lay in a bed with her and felt weird when he put his arm around her. Not in seven years.

Of everything, everything in his life, he’s never wondered. Not until now, not until _Louis_.)

“Liam?” Harry asks, tentative. “If you’re ready, we can hang this one up? Last roll of the pink, I promise.” 

He swallows, finally tearing his eyes away, a million years too late. He gets back up on the ladder, holding up the crepe paper. “Here?”

Harry shakes his head. “A little to the left. No, the other left — fuck, I meant up. Little higher — there we go.” He smiles, satisfied. “Lou, what do you think?”

Louis barely looks at it before grunting what could be an affirmation. He goes into the kitchen, letting the door shut with a bang behind him. There’s a bunch of loud bustling, and then a cabinet slams shut.

Liam pulls his eyes away from the door and moves the ladder over so he can do the other side as well. He gets down and jerks his head toward the kitchen. “I’m gonna go talk to him. See what’s up.”

“If you want,” Harry murmurs, biting his lip and grabbing a handful of tinsel, surveying the room. 

Liam sets down everything, dusting the glitter off of his hands and following Louis. He doesn’t bother knocking, just goes in.

Louis is leaning over the sink, eyes shut, gripping the countertop. “Please leave me alone, Harry, we talked about this yesterday,” he says, tight.

“Not Harry,” Liam says. He leans against the counter, ignoring the small wave of glitter that falls when he nudges it. He tries not to be offended that Louis has apparently been talking to Harry and not him; that’s irrational, he tells himself fiercely. “You wanna talk about it to me?”

“Nope,” Louis says, and in the same breath, “Eleanor and I broke up.”

Liam swallows. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “It wasn’t, like. A thing. But it fucking sucks, we split right before Valentine’s.”

“Yeah,” Liam murmurs, crossing his arms and looking down. Louis hadn’t mentioned her since the night Liam had spent at his, and in honestly Liam’s forgotten they were dating. 

Harry hasn’t, though; Harry gets to know what Louis is thinking. Harry’s his new confidante. 

The jealousy Liam’s feeling is absolutely irrational, but he doesn’t know how to turn it off. 

“I’m really sorry,” he says when the silence has stretched too thin. “That’s really shit.” 

“I don’t mean to be a downer,” Louis says quietly. “It just fucking _sucks_ , you know?” He looks up at him, giving a little shrug. 

Liam nods.

“You don’t though, not really, Mr. Seven-Years-and-Counting, but thanks.” He looks over at Liam properly, giving him a once-over. “You’re, um. Quite a sight.”

Liam looks down. There’s bits of tinsel and glitter all over him. He shrugs. “Harry’s really aggressive about the holidays.”

Louis nods. “So — what’s this all about, then? He just told me that he was calling us in for a special mission.”

“He wants Nick to want to date him and he’s decided the best way to do that is to make the office as pink as possible.” He can’t say it without giggling, but he tries not to make it too loud. Louis is still sad, after all. “Apparently Nick keeps dodging the question.”

Louis snorts, shaking his head. “They’re quite a pair.” His voice isn’t quite normal, but it’s a far cry from the soft, sad thing it had been.

“Yeah,” Liam murmurs. He opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I — I’m really sorry about Eleanor. I didn’t even know you were dating her.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I hadn’t told anyone but Harry. It’s silly but it feels like every time I tell the people here something it gets fucked up, you know?”

He tries to pretend it doesn’t hurt. “Right, yeah.”

Louis gives him a look. “I don’t mean you, obviously, just these other idiots. But we’ve not gone out just the two of us lately.” His voice goes soft and sad. “Because I’ve been out with El.”

He says her name so fondly it makes Liam’s heart hurt. “God,” he says, because he doesn’t know what to say, really. “I’ll take you out,” he says. “You and me, drinks. A day that’s less… romantic than today, but soon.”

Louis looks up at him, biting his lip. “I’d like that, yeah. Just the two of us.”

“And we can catch up. Really catch up.” He smiles, careful.

“Yeah.” Louis grins at him. God, he’s pretty. If he were someone else (Louis, maybe) he’d offer a friendly kiss to make up for getting left right before Valentine’s. As it stands, he just stays where he is, crossing his arms so he doesn’t do anything dumb.

He makes himself look away and goes out to help Harry, who is half hanging from the ceiling what looks like pink tulle in his hand.

“Liam, I need —” is all he manages before he falls with the loudest crash Liam thinks he’s ever heard.

* 

When Nick finally comes in, Harry’s on the floor, typing away on his laptop.

Nick blinks, looking around. “What’s all this, then?” he asks Liam in a falsely casual voice.

“Nick,” Harry says, looking up at him and shutting his laptop. “We need to talk. I also think I need a little bit of help getting up. I’m not going to the hospital, though, okay? No matter how many times I almost fall.”

Nick looks at Liam, wide-eyed. “What —”

“I love you,” Harry interrupts, looking at Nick very seriously. 

Liam widens his eyes. 

Louis runs and helps Harry up, pushing them into Nick’s office. “Happy Valentine’s, you dicks!” he shouts, slamming the door shut behind them. He grins at Liam.

“I don’t want to know,” Zayn says from his desk, and takes a sip of coffee. Liam snorts. 

Louis sits down in his chair, grabbing his phone and dialing a number right away. 

Louis is subdued for the rest of the day. He talks to Liam, but quietly.

“Drinks this weekend?” Liam offers. 

Louis shakes his head and walks away without answering. 

Liam frowns. No to that, then. 

He’s relieved when the day finally ends and he can see Danielle again. He bounces his leg the entire way there. 

When he walks in the door, she’s cooking dinner. She offers her cheek for him to kiss, grinning at him. “How was work? How was Harry?” she asks. 

He hops up on the counter and lets her work, cracking his neck and getting into an explanation of the day. It’s nice, sweet. They’ve decided not to exchange gifts this year; she’s never been one for Valentine’s Day and neither has he, really. 

When the pasta’s done cooking, he plates it for the two of them. She goes upstairs and gets changed, coming back down in a pink dress. She’s wearing lipstick, for once. He smiles at it, kissing her cheek softly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” 

They eat until the candles burns out, and Danielle leads him upstairs. This time, when they fall into bed together he takes his time, focuses only on her for as long as he can, barely noticing his own hips rocking against the bed. 

When he falls asleep, it’s with an arm draped over her stomach and a completely empty mind. 

*

“Liam!” Louis shouts into the phone at nine on a Monday morning.

Liam wrinkles his nose, holding it away from him. “Yes?”

Louis hums. “I need you to do me a favor. Please. For a friend.”

Liam rubs his temple, closing his eyes. “What’s that, then?”

“Lie to Nick, tell him I’m sick.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t you just tell _me_ you were sick and save the headache?”

There’s a pause. “Liam, I’m sick. I’ve come down with a terrible illness. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come into work again, to be honest. I might —”

“Please stop,” Liam says, laughing. “All right, I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks so much,” Louis says. “Love you, bye,” and he hangs up with a click.

Liam spends an inordinate amount of time staring at the phone. He just — fuck. _Fuck_. He sounded so flippantly sincere about it.

He puts his phone down and tries very hard not to think about it again. He’s overreacting. It’s not a big deal and it doesn’t matter, he tells himself sternly.

He gets a message notification and frowns, opening it. 

_Louis_Tomlinson_ : hey Liam 

Liam raises an eyebrow. His hands shake a bit as he types. 

_RealLiamPayne_ : Yeahhh?

He gets the notification that Louis is typing, and he watches it, frowning. It goes away after a few minutes, though, and Louis has logged off. 

He closes out of it himself, mind racing. 

Maybe it’s a little bit of a deal, he muses. 

* 

When Louis comes in the next day, he’s a mess. He barely looks at Liam, and if he was wondering if he overreacted, well. He supposes he has his answer now.

They don’t talk to one another for the majority of the day, until Liam’s getting up to go make himself a mug of tea. He stops by Louis’ desk. “Hey,” he says, feeling supremely awkward.

Louis blinks up at him, and goes wide-eyed. “Hi.” He tries to lean on his elbow and hits the pencil cup, sending them scattering everywhere. “Shit.” He gets out of his chair, trying to pick them up.

Liam goes down as well, helping.

“Thanks,” Louis says, quiet, when they’ve got them all together.

When Liam looks up, their faces are too close. He sucks in a breath and doesn’t let himself look at Louis’ mouth or his eyes, looks down instead at the pencil cup. “You’re welcome.” He stands up, hand at the back of his head. “I was just — tea. I was making tea. You want any?” _Love you_ , Louis had said. 

Louis nods, jerky. He’s still kneeling on the ground. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Thanks.”

Liam nods again, and goes to make them. He waits a bit, taking a couple of breaths before he goes back out.

Louis’ fingers rest against his wrist for a second when he takes the cup. “I didn’t mean anything yesterday,” he murmurs. “I don’t want it to be awkward.” 

That’s the problem, Liam doesn’t say. He knows it didn’t mean anything but that doesn’t stop him wanting. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, making himself smile. “I know. ‘m just having a rough day.” 

“You sure?” Louis asks. 

Liam nods. He doesn’t trust himself to say anything. 

He doesn’t ignore Louis, really, but he doesn’t go out of his way to talk to him either. It’s not on purpose. He just needs to take a minute to remind himself of what he’s doing and what he definitely shouldn’t be doing. 

He doesn’t want Louis to love him. He doesn’t want Louis to _want_ him. He just wants them to be okay. 

Louis comes over to his desk, after he gets off his break. He’s frowning. “We’re okay, yeah?” he asks quietly. 

“Of course we are,” he murmurs.

“Because you haven’t been talking to me,” Louis says. “And that’s shit. I don’t want you to do that. If you’re worried about me — I don’t, I promise — I don’t _love_ you.”

Liam nods, slow. “I know you don’t,” he says. He feels a bit like he’s got the wind kicked out of him. This is absurd, he tells himself. 

Louis keeps looking at him. For once, Liam can’t read him. “I say it to everyone,” Louis says. “Force of habit. Got it from my mum.”

“Makes perfect sense, then,” Liam says as sensibly as he can manage. His voice is still small and sad. 

Louis is still giving him that inscrutable look, and Liam waits until he goes back to his desk to get up, walking as calmly as he can to the bathroom and locking himself in a stall. 

He leans against the door, trying desperately not to cry. He doesn’t know what this is — he doesn’t know how to manage all this. Fuck, he’s not ever felt like this before. He wants Louis to love him and he wants him to not; he can’t make up his mind, can’t calm himself down.

 _Danielle_ , he thinks, and then, for the first real time — _maybe I need to leave her_. 

It’s an absolutely terrifying thought, one he pushes out of his mind as soon as it’s there. 

The door opens and closes, and then he hears footsteps that stop right outside the stall door. “Liam?” It’s Harry.

He tries to keep his voice even. “Yeah, s’me.” It comes out rough, voice small and choked.

Harry doesn’t say anything for a second. “You need anything, babe? Only, Louis looks like shit and I think it’s got to do with you, considering he and you were just talking.”

“No,” Liam says. “Nothing’s wrong. Just — wedding jitters.” Because he’s still engaged, still getting married, still loves Danielle as desperately as he always has. No matter how much he wants Louis to be in love with him, he _loves_ her. He’s not leaving.

Harry makes a little _oh_ sound, and his eyes go comically wide. “I see. So. It’s got nothing to do with Louis?”

“Not at all.” He wouldn’t believe himself, if he were Harry. 

Harry sighs, long and put-upon, rapping his knuckles twice on the door. “Will you come out of there? Not that I don’t love talking to an actual wall, but it might be nice to, y’know, see your face.”

Liam laughs, a bit hollow, and opens the door.

Harry offers him a hug, ignoring the red splotches Liam’s sure are on his face. “You’re okay,” he murmurs. “You two are gonna be okay.”

Liam pretends that Harry’s talking about Danielle.

Harry leads him out of the bathroom and makes him a cup of tea, watching him carefully. 

Liam feels scrutinised, but not in the way he does when it’s Louis watching. He remembers, belatedly, that Harry can’t keep a secret to save his life — but Liam hasn’t told him anything. He has nothing to tell. 

When he finally gets back to his desk, Louis barely catches his eye. He’s on the phone, and he goes, too loudly, “Love you, bye,” as he’s hanging up. As he sets down the phone he visibly winces, but he doesn’t even try to get Liam’s attention.

Liam stares at his computer screen, ignoring the way he can feel Louis looking over at him, almost pleading, after a moment.

He somehow resists the urge to rest his head against his desk. He doesn’t know if Louis trying like this makes it better or worse.

*

As Louis is leaving that day, he stops by Liam’s desk again. “Have a great night,” he says.

Liam smiles up at him. “You, too.”

Louis opens and closes his mouth a few times, as though he’s about to say something.

Liam cuts him off before he can. Louis looks scared. God, Liam didn’t mean for this. “I’m not mad at you. Just stressed about Dani. Had a bit of a cry about it to Harry.”

Louis nods, slow. “Yeah?” His shoulders slump a bit in what Liam assumes is relief. 

“Yeah.” Liam forces a smile. “We’re good, Lou.” Harry’s words repeat in his mind.

When Louis nods, it comes out unsure, but Liam ignores it. “Yeah. Thanks. I was — you know. Didn’t want anything to be weird, like.”

God, neither does Liam. “Yeah,” he says instead of what he’s thinking ( _please let me kiss you please I want to hold you_ ).

Louis leaves with a small smile.

Liam leans his head forward, breathing out slow, shaky.

* 

“I’ve got something to tell you,” Perrie says as Liam’s filling up his coffee mug.

He looks over at her, frowning. “What’s that, then?”

She looks around furtively. “It’s about you-know-who.”

Liam’s absolutely baffled. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Louis!” She widens her eyes at him, giving him a baffled look.

“Oh.” He takes a huge sip of coffee and tries not to wince when it burns him. “What, ah, about him?” He keeps his face impassive.

“All right, you know Tina?”

He gives her a blank look. “The one that works here? Yeah, I know her.”

She waves a hand. “I just wanted to be sure, she’s much less… loud than Matt is. Anyway, Louis was back there the other day and he kept talking about you.”

His chest seizes. “Uh. Really?” he asks, no idea if his voice and face are normal or not. His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. “What’d he, uhm, say?” He doesn’t think Perrie would bring it up unless it were something important, unless —

“He said he doesn’t like you're always talking about the wedding,” she says. “Said it’s inappropriate to plan it here.”

“Oh.” Fuck, it feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. “Well.”

She gives him a sympathetic. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I know you two are really good friends, and —”

He nods, not feeling guilty about blowing her off. “I’m gonna go back to my desk,” he says, holding his mug too tight. “Got lots of work to do. Thanks.”

She doesn’t say anything, watching him go. He can feel her eyes on his back and he tries to walk as normally as possible.

He sits down, and he’s suddenly _furious_ in a way he doesn’t know how to handle. 

Louis comes up, grinning. “I’ve got the best idea to prank Haz tomorrow morning,” he starts. He catches sight of Liam’s face. “Hang on. What’s wrong?”

“Can I talk to you outside?” Liam asks as normally as he can manage.

Louis’ eyes go wide for a fraction of a second. “Sure.” He follows Liam outside. The elevator ride is awkward. Liam stares at the glowing numbers and doesn’t spare even a glance at Louis. 

“Liam,” Louis says when they get outside, grabbing his arm. “What’s wrong? Have I done something?” 

“You’ve been complaining about me planning the wedding!” Liam shouts. It’s louder than he meant it to be, but it feels good to let it out. 

Louis’ mouth drops open. “Once,” he says. “And, like, I was just venting. It was — you know me, I’m single and bitter.” He laughs. It comes out forced.

“You’re supposed to be my best friend,” Liam says and he doesn’t care how silly, how childish he sounds. He’s _mad_ , damn it. “Why does it bother you so fucking much?” 

“I don’t know,” Louis says, giving him a defiant look.

Liam snorts. “You’re lying.”

Louis goes still, looking down at his feet. “I’m not lying, but I am leaving,” he says. “After the month. I got another job offer at another branch and I’m leaving.”

Liam’s mouth drops open, all of his anger gone just like that, replaced by an aching hurt. “Why?” he asks, soft.

Louis chances a look up at him. “Lots of reasons,” he whispers.

“But _why_? You’re leaving me?” God, he feels like he’s about to cry. He’s never going to see Louis again.

Louis takes a tentative step forward. “I wasn’t gonna do this now,” he says, reaching out, resting a hand on Liam’s hip.

Liam’s heart is pounding, fuck. Oh, god. Oh, _god_. “Wasn’t going to do what?” he whispers.

Louis’ eyes flick to Liam’s and then his lips. He opens his mouth. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers. “I’m so fucking in love with you and I’m sorry, I thought I could stop it if I tried hard enough but I can’t.” He stares at Liam. He steps closer.

God, Liam can’t move, can only stand there, lips parted slightly.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Louis says, and he sounds like he’s about to start crying. “Okay?”

Liam reaches out for him, resting a hand on his arm. He nods, barely perceptible.

“Fuck,” Louis whispers and he blinks fast, stepping forward. His hand slides around to Liam’s back, other hand just kind of hanging in the air. “Okay,” he whispers.

Liam blinks down at him. He doesn’t move; this doesn’t feel real, none of it feels real, like if he makes any sudden movements Louis is gonna leave, walk away and tell him he was joking. Won’t kiss him.

Liam still hasn’t said anything. He opens his mouth and that’s when Louis kisses him.

It’s firm but chaste. Liam whimpers into it, loud, and kisses him back, wraps his arms around him properly. He can’t help it, he’s never been able to help it with Louis.

Louis sighs, gasps really, and he tugs Liam in hard, sharp, thumb digging into his hip.

That’s what snaps Liam out of it; he pulls back, shaking his head.

Louis is grinning like Liam’s made his life. 

_Danielle_. He rubs his mouth. He can’t, fuck, and he’s going to break Louis’ heart. “God. No,” he says. “No, fuck, I’m sorry.” _Danielle_. His heart is pounding. 

Louis’ face goes from thrilled to fallen. “What?” he whispers.

Liam’s dangerously close to tears. “Danielle,” he tells him. It’s all that’s been playing in his mind, all he can say. 

Louis’ mouth opens and closes a few times. “You’re still getting married?” he asks in a soft, beaten voice.

He nods, not making eye contact. “I love her.” 

“You kissed me,” Louis says. “Or — you told me to kiss you, you _let_ me kiss you. You don’t love her.” It comes out fast, sharp. Mean. 

Liam’s mouth works. “I’m sorry if you — misinterpreted things,” he says, and as it’s coming out he knows how fucking weak it is.

Louis shakes his head, and when he laughs it’s hollow. “Shut up, shut the fuck up.” He wipes his mouth again, blinking fast. “ _Fuck_ you, you wanted this.” It comes out broken, wanting.

He deserves it, he deserves all of this, he doesn’t deserve Louis if he’s too fucking scared to say something. 

“I’m sorry,” he says and he heads back to his car.

“I’m still leaving,” Louis tells him.

Liam doesn’t turn around.

“I’m _leaving_ ,” he says again, completely desperate, needy. “Liam, please.” 

He doesn’t turn back, though he’s shaking with how much he wants to. 

He’s scared and he’s silent, and when he opens his car door he doesn’t look at him. He drives home and he tries not to cry. His phone buzzes on the seat next to him and he doesn’t answer it, doesn’t even look. 

When he gets there, Danielle’s putting dinner on the table. She’s wearing an apron that his mum had gotten her, he’s pretty sure. He’s gonna be sick, he’s pretty sure. He’s never fucked up this big before. 

She smiles wide at him. “I’ve finished writing out the invitations,” she says. “They’re purple and silver, I figured we’d compromise.” 

He nods, giving her a tiny smile. 

She frowns at him, wiping her hands on her apron. “Babe, is everything okay?”

He nods and kisses her hard, kisses her until he can’t feel Louis’ lips on his, until he can barely remember the way his voice broke when he said Liam’s name. _I love you_ , and fuck, fuck, he doesn’t love him, he can’t. He loves Danielle more than anything, he always has.

“Liam?” she whispers. 

He just kisses her again, over and over, arms tight on her back. 

She frowns deeper when he doesn’t respond, resting a hand on his back, the other on his cheek. She keeps them a bit apart. “You want to talk about anything?”

It takes him a minute, but, “Louis is leaving,” he says finally. It hurts to say his name but he deserves this, he thinks. He wasn’t the one to kiss Louis but he cheated, he _did_ , he wanted to kiss him. Wanted, wants, it’s all the same.

She wrinkles her nose. “What, like, the company?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Kind of sucks, you know? He’s my best friend.” He winces at how false it sounds.

She nods and she’s still frowning. She probably doesn’t get it, hell, he doesn’t understand himself. It feels like everything is Louis these days and that’s new and terrifying.

“Okay,” she whispers. She kisses his cheek, biting her lip. “I’m sorry about that, babe. But, you know, you can still talk to him, if that’s really what this is about. Yeah?”

God. His heart seizes up at the thought of talking to him after that. _I love you_. He nods, jerky. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Definitely. He loves you, you know that.”

God, he can’t, he can’t listen to this. He runs a hand over his hair, over his mouth. “I’m gonna go take a shower, actually,” he tells her. “Sorry. I’m just — it’s been a weird day, Nick’s been working us really hard. I’d like to decompress, you know?”

“Sure, babe,” she whispers. She kisses his cheek.

He goes upstairs and takes a shower mechanically. His thoughts go to Louis and he can’t stop himself getting hard, imagining if he’d kissed him harder, wanted more, pushed him against the wall and felt it.

He jerks off with his mouth pressed against his arm, biting down hard.

God. He’s fucked. 

*

He calls his mum a few nights later when the shower’s running and Danielle’s asleep. 

“What would you do if you had fallen in love with someone else? Or, I suppose, if someone had fallen in love with you,” he murmurs, sat on the countertop. “Like, before you were married.”

She’s quiet for a bit. “What’s this about, Liam?”

“Just tell me, please?” he asks. “I might’ve fucked up, Mum.” 

She hums thoughtfully. “I would think about it, and figure out if I really had feelings for them, or if it was a passing thing. And I would have told your dad, because that’s not fair to anyone, hiding like that.” She pauses. “Liam, what’s going on?” She asks again, firmer.

He chews on his fingernail, eyes screwed shut. “Louis told me. Yesterday. Said he was in love with me. And I — I think I might feel the same. Do feel the same. Maybe? I don’t know, Mum.”

“Ah,” she says, and she doesn’t sound surprised at all. “And Danielle?”

“I love her,” he whispers, trailing off at the end. 

“But?” 

“But she deserves someone who won’t go wanting other people when they’ve got her.”

She makes a little comforting sound. “It’s not a crime if you’ve fallen out of love, darling.” 

He shakes his head, can’t keep in a small sob. “I’m not — that’s not — I didn’t, I wouldn’t.” _Seven years_ , he thinks a little hysterically. “I would have known before now, I wouldn’t have stayed with her if I was just gonna —” He breathes in shaky, not finishing his sentence. 

“But it’s okay if you have,” she murmurs. God, he misses her, wants to have her hug him and fix it. 

He squeezes his eyes shut. “Is it really?” he asks. Fuck, he’s going to break Danielle’s heart if he tells her. 

“So long as you talk to her about it, yes,” she says, firm. “No one deserves to be strung around.”

And she’s right. Which means he’s got to tell her. Leave. “Yeah,” he whispers, wiping his eyes. “Yeah. God.” 

“I love you,” his mum murmurs. “I’m going to go to bed. But, if you need me, give us a ring, yeah?” 

“Yeah. Love you, too, Mum,” he says. 

She hangs up first and he sits on the couch with his knees to his chest, phone next to him. 

After a long time, he crawls into bed with Danielle, and rests a hand on her hip. 

_I’m not in love with you_ , he thinks, and it feels — right, maybe. True. 

It feels like the first time he’s been honest in a while and he kind of hates himself, but it’s the truth.

 _I don’t love you_ , he thinks again, and sucks in a shaky breath.

He has to tell her. He has to tell her the truth, she deserves that, at least. For as angry as he’s been at her the past few years, she doesn’t deserve this.

He considers pulling out his phone, texting Louis, but he doesn’t. He can’t do that to him. God, he’s fucked everything up, all his important relationships. Maybe he’ll do what Louis was always thinking about, leave for a vacation. Just go somewhere.

God.

He curls up facing the wall, and he doesn’t fall asleep for a very long time.

 _Tomorrow_ , he tells himself. Tomorrow, definitely.

* 

It’s not tomorrow. Louis is gone the next day and by the end of it he’s so worn out he needs her, needs to feel her close and breathing with him. 

Louis stays gone. 

Liam talks himself out of it and then back into it a thousand times. It’s hard, is all. Hard because he’s never known a life without her, never been on his own. 

Things are okay between them, but after a couple of months he realizes they’ll never be the same. He’s all but put Louis out of his mind, and it still doesn’t feel right to have her there with him.

It’s not just that he’s fallen in love with Louis, he thinks a little bit sadly, it’s that he’s fallen out of love with her. 

Still, even after he realizes it, he doesn’t say anything. He tries, but he can never make it come out. He’s always been a bit of a coward. 

In the end, it’s not until the beginning of summer. They’ve got their windows open and it’s a really warm day, for once. Danielle’s telling him an animated story, hands waving around. He watches her, and something clicks in his chest.

“I think we need to have a talk,” he says when she’s through.

She looks over at him, wide-eyed. “Right now?” she asks.

He nods, slow. “I’m sorry.”

She leans forward, head in her hands, staring at the ground. “It’s really happening,” she whispers.

He closes his eyes tight. God, she’s been _expecting_ this and that makes it worse, impossibly worse. “I don’t think,” he says, and his voice doesn’t shake but it’s a close thing, “that I can marry you.”

She nods, sucking in a breath. She’s shaking.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He doesn’t reach out for her; he doesn’t deserve it. He stays on his side of the couch, pressed against the back.

She nods, and she looks a little deflated. “So this is it, then.”

He nods.

“All the money, all the planning. Seven years.” Her voice is trembling. When she looks over at him, though, she’s dry-eyed. “You’re sure? Can’t take this back.” Her voice goes soft, needy, at the end. 

He nods, not making eye contact with her. “I’m really sure,” he whispers. He clears his throat. “I don’t know why — I just — it’s how it has to be.”

She snorts. “You know exactly why.” She gets up, and paces back and forth in front of him. He watches, a little nervous. “So that’s it, then,” she repeats. “What — fuck. What are we going to do about the flat? All of our things?”

“I’ll move out,” he says.

She gives him a look. “It doesn’t make it okay, even if you give me the flat.”

He nods. “I know. But — I’ll move out.” It’ll be good for him, he thinks. Get his own place for once. He’s never lived completely on his own, moved in with Danielle while he was still at uni. And he’s not sure if he’d want to live here, where memories of the two of them are etched into the walls.

She nods, crossing her arms over her chest. “I think you should leave, then,” she says, looking down. “You can get the rest of your stuff later, just — please.”

He nods, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry,” he says. It comes out mostly soundless.

She nods, still staring down.

He goes into their bedroom — well, her bedroom now, he thinks — and packs an overnight bag, just a couple of outfits. Just enough to get him through the week. 

He gets to the door and looks back at her, just once, before he leaves, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t have anything else to say.

He sits in his car with the engine running, head pressed back, against the seat. He wants to call someone, do something, but — and this is weird and hard to admit — he doesn’t really have any friends outside of work. He’s not going to call Louis; this isn’t about him, much as Liam’s been blaming him. Louis didn’t make him fall out of love with Dani. He didn’t jump from one love to the other.

(But god, he still loves him.)

In the end he calls Harry. “Is it, ah, all right if I stay with you a couple days? Danielle and I just split. Just until I find someplace to stay,” and saying it like that, final, cements something in his chest. Maybe he’ll get a haircut, shave his head. Harry’s been going on about that lately. 

“Yeah, of course,” Harry says. “Nick’s here half the time but you can sleep on the couch. I’m sorry, that’s rude, I can kick him out for a bit if you want the bed. What d’you need? What’re you doing right now?”

Harry’s so nice that Liam feels bad about ever laughing at all of the rude things that he and Louis had done to him. “I’m sitting in my car,” he says, laughing shakily. “I drove to a park nearby and I’m just sitting here.”

“Come to mine,” Harry says. “We can go out to lunch or something. Fuck, Liam, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” Liam murmurs, staring out the window. He starts the car. “So am I.” 

*

They don’t end up going out to lunch.

Liam sits with his head on Harry’s shoulder, wrapped under a duvet Harry swears nothing’s happened to or on. He insists it so many times and so fiercely that Liam doesn’t believe him for a second. The sentiment is nice, though.

He doesn’t cry. It feels like he’s too broken to cry or something. 

Harry doesn’t judge him for it, just lets him sit there, telling him stories about the farm, about his sister, about growing up. 

“I’ve always wanted to be a banana farmer,” he says. Normally Liam would start laughing, make fun of him, but he’s desperate for normalcy and he just listens. “Like, bananas are my favorite food of all time and I want to grow ‘em, you know? Not pay those ridiculous store prices.” He shrugs, going quiet. 

“Why?” he asks. 

Harry smiles like he’s trying to hide it. “You want to know?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, pulling the blanket up further. 

Harry hums. “They were my favorite fruit when I was little,” he murmurs. “Gemma and I, we used to always pretend to be farmers when we were little. She gave it up quicker than I did, but it was just… nice.” 

Liam smiles. “That’s sweet,” he murmurs. 

Harry hums. “Thank you,” he says, a little bit surprised.

The door opens and in walks Nick, big smile on his face and grocery bag in his arms. He pauses when he sees Liam. “What’s going on?”

“Liam’s left Danielle,” Harry says in a firm voice. “He’s staying here a few days. Well, not literally here — actually, yeah,” he corrects, looking at the couch. “Right on this couch.”

If Liam were any less heartbroken he’d feel embarrassed about his boss seeing him like this, but, as it stands, he can barely manage a twinge of anything. He feels more empty than heartbroken and that only makes it hurt worse.

Nick frowns. “You have like six bedrooms upstairs. Let Liam stay there.”

Harry looks at him like he’s scandalised. “Those are for _guests_! Liam’s not a guest, he’s our friend! Family, even.” He tightens his arm around him.

Nick’s looking at him like he’s an idiot — which, Liam thinks, is a pretty common look shared between them. “Right, but a bed’s loads more comfortable than a couch.”

“I really don’t mind the couch,” Liam says. 

Nick flaps a hand at him. “It’s lumpy and hard and you won’t be able to get any sleep.” He pauses. “Hang on, you’ve left Danielle?”

It’s so, so weird to hear it like that, from his boss. And it’s strange, that he had felt so alone when Louis had left, because the caring and heartbroken way Nick is looking at him makes him feel like some sort of friendship is blooming in the aching spot in his chest that Louis had left. Harry being there, too, makes it go from a small glow to a sparkling comfort in his lungs. 

He feels like he can breathe again.

He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

“Fuck.” Nick sits down, and then he’s got two overly tactile people hugging him. Nick presses a kiss to his hair. “I’m sorry.”

He just nods, eyes shut. “Yeah.”

“What do you want to do?” Harry asks quietly, putting his socked feet up on the coffee table. 

Liam hums. “D’you think you could cut my hair for me?”

“Liam, that’s not —” Nick starts. 

“Yeah!” Harry says, grinning. “I’m gonna make you look amazing.” 

“Just shave it, please,” he says politely. “I just. That’s something I can do, you know?”

“Yeah,” Harry murmurs. “I work part-time at the barber shop down the street, let’s go.” 

Harry and Liam head down there and the walk itself is pretty quiet. Liam feels drawn in on himself and Harry’s always been good at reading him. 

“Harry?” Liam asks quietly. 

“Yeah?” 

Liam bites his lip. “You’re a really good friend,” he murmurs.

Harry grins at him. “Thank you,” he says, sounding absurdly pleased. They push open the door and Harry walks inside, taking Liam back to an empty chair. He goes to the front desk, presumably to explain why he’s there, and Liam stares at himself in the mirror. 

Harry sits him down and Liam takes a few steadying breaths. This is good, this is what he needs. 

It doesn’t take much time at all. He looks at himself, rubbing his hand over his head. It’s shorter, and lighter, and he feels a million times better. In a way, he doesn’t look like himself at all. He looks like a completely different person. But then again, he thinks, maybe it’s time for him to leave that old _Liam_ behind. 

“Thanks,” he says quietly, smiling at Harry through the mirror.

Harry bends down and kisses his head, rubbing his shoulders. “Of course.” 

They walk down the street together. Liam sighs when he walks in, giving Nick an almost nervous glance. 

Nick smiles when he sees Liam, wrapping him in a giant hug. “You look very fit,” he murmurs right in his ear, so only Liam can hear it. “I’m proud of you for leaving.” 

Liam closes his eyes and nods as if on autopilot.

*

In the end, he sleeps in the bedroom Nick’s picked out for him. 

Danielle texts him that she’s leaving for her mum’s for the evening and that he can pick his things up whenever he’d like. He groans and shrugs on his jacket. “I’m gonna go back for a bit,” he says, running his hand over his hair. “Pack, you know.” 

Harry frowns. “We’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to —” Liam starts. 

“Yes, we do,” Nick tells him.

And that’s how he ends up showing Harry and Nick around his old flat, trying to disturb as little as possible, and only take the essentials. He leaves his sweaters, most of his shoes. He ends up with a stuffed suitcase and a place that doesn’t look that different from before.

Maybe it’s never been his, he thinks dully. Maybe the house was always her’s. 

Both of them are quiet on the ride back. Nick sits next to him in the back seat, arm around him. After a minute, Liam rests his head on his shoulder. He’s fucking exhausted.

He gets back to the bed and breakfast and sets his suitcase down, only managing to get his shoes off before he gets into bed. He curls up, pulling out his phone.

He wants to text Louis. He should, really. 

Louis left and Liam loves him desperately, but Louis doesn’t deserve to be a rebound.

He clicks his phone shut and tries to sleep. 

When he wakes up, Harry’s making pancakes and Nick’s telling an animated story about a particularly difficult client, eating a bowl of cereal. They both go quiet when Liam gets in. 

“I’m okay,” he says, nodding at Nick to continue. He grabs an apple, leaning against the counter.

Nick goes back into it — “I thought I was going to be arrested, Haz!” — and Liam sighs in relief, letting the sense of normalcy wash over him. 

*

He does start looking for places to stay. He finds a few places on Craigslist and all in all he only stays with Harry for a week.

“I can pay you,” he says as he’s leaving. “I mean — I’ve got some money saved up, you know.” _For the wedding_ , he doesn’t say.

Harry waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. You just feel better, yeah? I mean — you’re better off. If this is for the best, that’s what it is.” He shrugs, clapping him on the back. “You’ll be fine, Liam. And, like. Anytime you want to stay here, just let me know.” He smiles at him, warm and genuine.

Liam drives alone to his flat and looks around. There’s a bed and a dresser and not much else. He lies down on the bed, unmade, staring at the ceiling. It looks as though someone’s hit it, over and over, with a broom.

But it’s his, he thinks. All his.

He spends the evening setting up; he puts up pictures of him and his family (and he tries not to think about how few pictures there are of him without Danielle; those he puts in a different box, in the back of his closet, because he doesn’t want to forget but he certainly doesn’t want to remember). His clothes go into drawers. He goes grocery shopping and realises he does know how much to buy — that’s one good thing, he supposes, about having lived with her. He knows how much he can eat in a week and how much he can’t.

He’s never lived on his own, not properly, but this isn’t entirely unfamiliar.

He still doesn’t like being alone, but maybe he’ll get used to it.

He buys a new set of sheets, too, cotton and cheap, and that night as he lies down on them he curls up, content to be alone, for once. He’s sad, doesn’t think he’s ever going to stop being sad, but he’s not as sad as he could be.

He misses her. He misses the way she laughs and the way she tells stories and a thousand other little things, but he’s happy, too.

He cooks himself dinner for the first time in a long time. He has pasta and alfredo sauce, and makes himself vegetables.

Maybe he’ll learn how to properly cook. Learn to make pasta, and all that.

He’s got all the time in the world, it feels like.

When he goes to bed that evening, in a set of sheets that he’s never shared with anyone but himself, he’s—not happy, really, but content.

 _Seven years_ , he thinks, and there’s a twinge of sadness but not much more than that.

He feels like a terrible person; he doesn’t deserve this, to be happy when she’s (he assumes) not. He’s broken the hearts of two people he loved in the past two weeks, god.

(He loved Louis. Still loves him. Will love him for a long time.) 

But, he thinks, maybe this is better. Better for Danielle to hurt now than later; better for Louis to be gone than to be Liam’s rebound.

He sleeps soundly that night and if he has nightmares he doesn’t remember them when he wakes up.

* 

“We’ve got interns!” Nick shouts, hands cupped around his mouth. He’s pointing at two guys with ridiculous hair, who are standing there. One’s got glasses and a shocking mop of curly hair, and the other’s standing with his feet turned inward. 

Liam likes them immediately. 

“This is Luke and Ashton,” Nick says, nodding at each of them. “Though, hang on.” He steps back, pursing his lips and looking at the one with the glasses. “You look like someone. Can you take those off? Please?”

Ashton frowns but does as Nick asks, holding his glasses out. “Yeah?” he asks. He’s got a ridiculously squeaky voice. 

“Wow,” Jade says, raising her eyebrows. “You look just like Harry. Just… more blonde, like.”

“Hmm?” Harry asks, walking in from the kitchen. He grins, wide, when he sees Ashton. “Mini-me!”

“Oh, I’m not —”

“So we’ll all call you Harry Junior,” Nick says, nodding at him. “And you can still be Luke, I guess, if only because you don’t look like anyone here.”

Perrie snorts. “He’d look like Liam if Liam were fitter and had better hair.” 

“Hey,” Liam says, pouting. He _likes_ his hair. Everyone else can fuck off about it. 

“Just Luke is fine,” he says politely. He clears his throat. “Um. Can we get working now? Please?”

“Right,” Nick says. “Liam, will you show them to their desks, please? And don’t forget to try to find a nickname for this one,” he says, leaning in and saying it directly into Liam’s ear. 

Liam tries not not to laugh too hard. Nick is the _worst_ at being subtle. 

When he’s through with the impromptu tour, Luke clears his throat. 

Liam looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Um. If I were to bring my boyfriend in,” he says quietly, carefully, “would that be frowned upon?”

Liam wrinkles his nose. “Uh. Dunno, I guess. Ask Tina? She’d know. People don’t generally bring their people with them, but I think that’s out of choice rather than by rule.”

“Right.” Luke goes pink.

Ashton rolls his eyes, nudging his shoulder. “He’s just happy they’re finally together. Proper obsessed, he is.” 

Liam laughs, a bit forced. “Well, I’m very happy for you,” he says. 

Luke smiles his thanks. 

Liam points them over to their desks — with this lot, they’ll never actually be sat there, but he doesn’t need to tell them that yet — and goes back to his own, sinking down into the chair happily. 

He can still be a person without either of them, he reminds himself. He’s still Liam, even if he doesn’t have Danielle or Louis anymore. 

*

“ _Who_ stole my strawberries?” Nick shouts as he walks out of his office, arms crossed. 

Liam grins and goes to share a look with Louis, but — Luke’s at his desk. He keeps forgetting. He swallows hard, looking back down.

“Seriously!” Nick says, voice higher than it should be. “I’m starved and they were all I had.”

“Well,” Harry says, spinning around in his chair. “I might’ve done. Let me make it up to you?”

 _Smooth_ , Liam thinks, grinning. He catches Zayn’s eye, this time, and can’t help a giggle. 

*

After a while, not only does Luke’s boyfriend come in — and he’s so helpful that Liam doesn’t actually remember which one works there half the time — but so does another one with bright red hair, who always jokes with everyone. Ashton always makes sure Liam’s included, though, which is nice. 

That’s something that took Louis a couple of months, he remembers; when he’d first worked there they hated one another, always at each other’s throats. It wasn’t until Louis had stumbled on Liam practically tearing his hair out that they’d stopped. Louis had drawn a little heart on Liam’s shoe, and normally it would have irritated him but it ended up just making him laugh.

Weird, to think about now. Such a simple, silly thing, and it had felt like so much.

* 

The date of his wedding comes and passes.

He realises it in the morning, when he’s tying his tie (Nick’s implemented a new dress code. It’s not the first time and Liam’s pretty sure it’ll be cancelled by the week’s end, but he doesn’t mind dressing up, even if he doesn’t have anyone to do it for). He swallows when the date hits him, fingers fumbling on the knot.

He’s quiet that day. He wants nothing more than to call Louis and cry; rejection or no rejection, he’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t mind talking to him. Not if Liam needed it.

He almost does it a thousand times. He’s memorised the number of the other branch with how often he looks at it.

He doesn’t, though. He shrugs on his jacket at the end of the day and looks almost longingly at the phone.

(Maybe he’s hoping for Louis to call him. And it’s — god, it’s stupid and juvenile. And all Liam wants.)

*

August ends, and neither of them call. He hasn’t even spoken to Louis in months. 

Zayn gets promoted from intern to sales to “Head of Social Media Department”, a promotion that Liam thinks has less to do with his artistic abilities (which are pretty negligible) and more to do with the fact that he’s terrible at sales. After his third Twitter fight with a customer Nick demotes him once more. Zayn pouts at Liam on the regular, but he also leaves vaguely terrifying drawings for Liam to find so he can’t feel very bad for him. 

The four interns — the Summer Boys, as Nick calls them — stay on as well, which is nice. He’s gotten close to Calum, who he’s 99% sure is an actual employee now. 

“Mmm, no,” Nick says when he asks about it. “Or — I don’t think so.” He frowns out into the office, where the four of them are giggling about something, each holding a cup of water. “I think we only pay two of them?”

“You think?” Liam asks, making a face. “You should find out, though.” 

Nick shrugs. “Could ask Fifi, I suppose.” 

They walk over to Accounting, and Nick taps on Fiona’s shoulder until she turns around, glaring at him. 

“How many of the Summer Boys do we actually pay?” Liam asks before Nick or Fiona can say anything. He doesn’t want to have to mediate another fight of theirs. 

Fiona cackles. “Two a month, but it switches off.” 

Nick opens his mouth a few times, but no words come out. “Why?” He finally asks. 

She shrugs. “I wondered the same thing, but Mikey said he talked to you about it.” She turns back to her computer, effectively ending the conversation.

Nick hums. “Well, so long as they’re doing their jobs,” he says, heading back to his office. 

*

Liam’s packing up his things at the end of the day in early early October when he gets the call. It’s from Louis’ branch, and he frowns, picking it up. “One Direction Maps, this is Liam,” he says, holding the phone between his cheek and his shoulder.

“Oh!” Louis’ voice is tinny over the phone, higher somehow. He sounds surprised, voice a little bit shaking. “Liam, mate! Thought you’d have left by now, sorry!” He’s so fucking enthusiastic, Christ.   
Liam’s heart clenches and he squeezes his eyes shut, runs his thumb over and over against the edge of his desk. “Avoiding talking to me, then?” He keeps his voice even, doesn’t let his hurt bleed through.   
There’s the barest pause, and then Louis is talking, voice still so forcedly cheerful. “No, no, just didn’t want to bother you with this. Was checking my messages, is all I wanted.”  
“I’ll let you go, then,” Liam says, “if you want.”  
“Nah,” Louis breathes. “I mean,” and now he sounds awkward, stiff, “we can catch up if you — you want?”  
“Sure,” Liam says, and _he’s in love with me_ runs through his brain. _I called it off with Danielle_ , he doesn’t say, _I’m in love with you, too, please don’t tell me you’ve forgotten about me all the way in London_. He breathes out sharply and calms himself down, says, “Nick gave us a lecture on talking to customers today.”  
“Oh really?” And now Louis sounds more relaxed. Liam can see him in his mind’s eye, feet up on his desk and half-smile on his face. He’s probably wearing his glasses. Liam hopes so, at least; the idiot never wears them if he can help it, says they make him look like an idiot. (Liam thinks they make him look sexy. He’s always thought so, but he’s never said. Maybe he should have.) If Liam closes his eyes and holds the phone tight against his ear, he can pretend they’re in the same room.  
“Yeah,” he says when the silence has gone on just a second too long. “Apparently Leigh-Anne got into it with a customer? He called her a righteous bitch and she shouted some things that I’m not gonna repeat. Nick seemed happy about it, though. He’s a good guy.”  
“He’s still kind of a dick,” Louis says automatically.   
Liam rolls his eyes. “He’s not that bad.”  
“He called me fat on my first day—”  
“He didn’t call you fat! He made the joke that your trousers were too tight.”  
“They were not,” Louis says with a dainty sniff. “They were perfect and so am I.”  
“You are,” Liam says, because it’s six at night (as though that’s late) and he and Louis are talking for the first time in months, because he broke up with Danielle and he wonders if that would change anything, be enough to make Louis come back.  
 _I miss you, I miss you, I’m sorry I miss you so fucking much_.   
The silence, the words, hang between them.   
Liam swallows.   
“I have to be honest, I do kind of miss Nick,” Louis says, low and sweet. It’s a way out.   
Liam breathes out, shaky. “Why’s that?” He asks, clicking open a game of Freecell. He needs something to focus on, something other than Louis and how far apart they are now. “Didn’t know it was possible for you to hate someone more than you hate him.”

“I’m an enigma, Liam,” Louis says. “Also, Louis — my new boss — is a grade-A douchebag. He’s the worst, Liam, I’ve no idea why I ever complained about Nick when people like _him_ exist. He doesn’t deserve my name,” he sniffs. “Pronounces it wrong, and everything. _Louis_ ,” he says, dragging out the -s sound. “Just because that’s how he pronounces it.” 

Liam laughs, shaking his head. “You’re so dramatic,” he teases. 

“Yes, well.” He sniffs. “I was an actor, Liam, darling.”

 _Darling_. He’s missed him so much. “Once an actor, always an actor, yeah? Isn’t that what you always say?” 

“I said that once, like two years ago.” He’s laughing, though, loud and bright. 

_It’s been too quiet here without you_ , Liam doesn’t say. _They replaced you with four interns you’d love. Not as much as you love me, though, I hope._ He settles on, “God, what time is it there?”

Louis is quiet for a long time. “We’re in the same timezone,” he finally says, gentle. 

Liam shakes his head, clicking out of FreeCell. “Right,” he murmurs as he rubs a hand over his face, grinning. “Forgot. Feels like you’re so far.”

“Only a couple of hours,” Louis says. If Liam didn’t know him, he’d think there was an invitation in his voice, an _ask me to come back_.

There isn’t, though. Louis hasn’t ever been subtle in his life. If he wanted to come back, he would. 

Nick comes out of his office. “What’re you doing?” he asks.

Liam shakes his head. “Nothing. Bye,” he calls after him.

“Oh,” Louis says, and he almost sounds disappointed. Maybe Liam’s projecting; he doesn’t know, anymore. “Right, I should go, too.”

“Oh, I wasn’t —” He pauses, cutting himself off. 

“Yeah?” Louis asks.

Liam swallows. “If you have to go, yeah, go ahead. I’ll talk to you, though, right?”

Louis laughs, low and sweet. “Yeah, Liam. We’ll talk again.”

“Promise.”

Louis pauses. “You could call me, too, you know. I’ve always got stories to tell.”

 _I miss you_. “I will,” Liam promises. 

“All right. Bye, Liam,” Louis murmurs. 

“Bye,” Liam says, and hangs up. 

*

“How’s Niall?” Harry’s asking into a phone when Liam walks into the kitchen one day. He’s munching on an apple, waving at Liam. _Louis_ , he mouths.

“I said hi,” Liam murmurs.

“Liam says hi,” he says. “Oh, that’s sweet. Did the two of you — awwww,” he says, smiling and taking another bite.

Liam doesn’t like to assume things, particularly things regarding Louis, but — Niall’s got to be a boyfriend, then, or something close to it. He gets his soda, and he tries not to feel hurt.

They’ve not even talked since that evening. It’s been two weeks, and he hasn’t been able to call. He doesn’t have a reason beyond, _I want to talk to you_ , and, while that’s enough for him, he doesn’t think Louis would appreciate it very much.

Niall. _Niall_. If he were better at subtlety, he’d ask Harry about it, no problem. He isn’t, though, hasn’t ever been and he doesn’t want anyone’s pitying looks.

He goes back to his desk, pouring the soda into his water bottle. (Louis had gotten him started doing that, way back when. “You can cut yourself, Liam!” he’d shouted one day and Liam really wanted him to shut up and do that fond smile thing, which he had.)

Harry walks out of the break room and they lock eyes for a minute. Harry looks scared. Liam tries to keep his face normal, typing away.

A company in Idaho, America had gotten the wrong shipment. Theirs had had a “disturbing phallic symbol” in the corner of every map, according to the woman who’d emailed him. He thinks he knows what happened: a bunch of the people working in the warehouse, along with him and Harry, had a bit of a party one evening. It was a month or so ago and Harry’d drawn what he thought was a banana. Must’ve turned out more like a dick.

Harry comes over to his desk, biting his lip. “Louis is dating someone else. His name’s Niall.”

Liam grins, shrugging. It feels fake. It is fake. “Good for him.”

Harry gives him a look.

Liam’s never told anyone here explicitly about his feelings for Louis, though, and he’s not going to start in the middle of a Wednesday. “I’m happy for him, really.”

“What if I told you that they were moving in together?” Harry murmurs.

Christ, Harry knows where to hit. “Well,” he says, and clears his throat. “Still good for them.” He looks back at the email he’s drafting.

“They aren’t,” Harry says. “I just thought you might want to know. It’s a possibility, yeah?”

He nods, not looking up.

“Since you and Louis are good friends and all.”

He closes his eyes, fingers stilling on the keyboard. “Thanks.”

Harry nods. Liam can see it out of the corner of his eye but he doesn’t look up, staring at his screen. Everything goes a little blurry, but he’s afraid if he does so much as blink he’s going to start crying.

Harry walks away and Liam finally relaxes, putting his head on the desk.

They’re serious enough that Harry’s joking about them moving in together, apparently. And Liam’s unimportant enough that Louis hadn’t even mentioned him when they talked. 

Fuck.

* 

That evening, he makes himself dinner and watches three hours of stupid television, some reality show called _The Only Way is Essex_ he’s been too out of the loop to ever hear about. It’s popular, though. They’ve got a marathon running. 

Somewhere in the third episode, when he’s on his third glass of wine, he can’t help himself thinking about it. 

So Louis is properly dating, then. Must be over Liam.

He’s happy for him, he tells himself sternly. He knows he should be, at the least. He was engaged for three years and Louis was in love with him for at least part of that time. Maybe the whole thing. He deserves someone who’ll love him back the way he deserves, right away. Someone who won’t take years and years to figure it out. 

He lies down, pulling the blanket over him, still staring at the TV. 

_I could love him properly_ , he thinks, because he’s sad and pathetic and silly. _I do_.

He rolls onto his back and pulls out his phone. He promised to call, after all, and it’s only eight. Still early.

Louis answers, sounding sleepy and pleased. “Liam?”

“Yeah,” he says. He flounders for a bit with what to say. “Hi. I just wanted to call. Say hello. See how you’re doing.”

Louis giggles at something decidedly not Liam. “One minute, I’ll be right back,” Liam hears, not aimed at the phone. When he gets back, his voice is louder.

This was an absolutely terrible idea. Liam kind of wants to throw up. “Sorry,” he says. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“Nah, just watching telly with Niall,” he says. “Some shit reality show, he loves it. I’m not a fan, myself, but I’ve always had more discerning taste than him.” He laughs. “Never been a fan of reality shows.”

Liam stares at the muted screen of his own TV and swallows. He doesn’t know what to say. This feels intentional, these carefully placed comments about his boyfriend, but Louis hasn’t ever been cruel. Rude, yeah, but not like this.

 _But you’d never turned him down before_ , he reminds himself. Louis doesn’t know how he feels. 

“Liam?” Louis asks when Liam has been quiet for a bit. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Was just thinking about you today.” He winces. “Not in a weird way — just, Harry was talking to you and I realised I hadn’t, you know. Called you in a while.”

“Right,” Louis says, laughing. “Miss you, too, babe.” He snorts. “One minute! For god’s sake, Niall,” he shouts away from the phone.

“I’ll let you go,” Liam says. He’s not going to cry, he’s not going to cry. “Let you get back to it.” _I left Danielle_.

“Liam,” Louis murmurs.

“No, fuck. I shouldn’t have called you when I’m like this, I’m sorry.” He presses his lips together and leans his head into his hands. “Bye,” he whispers.

Louis goes quiet for a long minute, and when he says, “Bye, Liam,” it sounds impossibly sad.

He doesn’t throw his phone away from him, but it’s a close thing.

* 

“Liam!” Perrie shouts, coming up to his desk and drumming her fingers on it. “Are you ready to be set up yet?”

Liam tilts his head, giving her what he hopes is an unimpressed look. “No, thank you.”

She frowns, leaning on her arms over his desk. “You’re never gonna get over her if you don’t try,” she says in a singsong. 

_Her_ , he thinks, and he wants to laugh, but no one knows, and that’s how he’d wanted it. He nods, fast and jerky. “I know, I know.”

She barrels past his hesitance. “And I have the best girl for you, honestly, Sophia’s one of the nicest people I know. She’s so smart, really, perfect for you,” she says, smiling wide.

He bites his lip, not sure what to say. “I’m sure she is. It’s just — seven years. I don’t even know how to go on a date anymore.” He’s a bit embarrassed to admit it, but fuck. It’s true. 

Her face softens and she nods, tilting her head. “Let me know, though, yeah?” she murmurs. “I know Soph would love you.”

He nods, looking back down, and doesn’t move until she’s walked away.

*

Perrie comes up to his desk a few days later, mouth set. “Liam,” she says, very severely.

Oh, god. He puts aside Nick’s schedule for the next week, looking at her. “Yeah?”

“I need to set you up with Sophia. Your sadness is the saddest thing I’ve _ever_ seen. I mean, you look like me before I found Zayn.” She bites her lip, smiling. “And now look how happy we are!”

In honesty, Liam hasn’t seen much of the two of them being happy beyond Perrie’s exuberance, but now is probably not the best time to mention that. He’s sure they’re very happy behind the scenes. He tries not to grimace at the image that puts into his head. He nods instead, going back to the week’s layout. “Fine,” he says.

She stares at him for a bit. “Really?” she squeals. “Really honestly, Liam?”

He nods, already regretting it a bit. “Time to get back out there, yeah?” 

“Exactly,” Harry says, walking up. He steals one of Liam’s pens and a post-it, drawing something. “Can’t be pining for him forever.” 

“Her,” Liam jumps in, giving him a look. 

Perrie looks between the two of them, frowning. “Friday night,” she tells Liam. “I’ll email you the details.” 

“Friday.” God, that’s in two days. “Sounds good.”

She nods, going back to her desk.

Fuck, Liam has _no idea_ how to go on a date with someone. After a couple of years he and Danielle had stopped doing much beyond picking films on Netflix and ordering pizza. He can barely remember their first date, only that he was so nervous he wanted to throw up because she was so pretty.

He realizes with a bit of reluctance that he’s only got one hope. “Harry!” he hisses.

He’s absurdly glad that Louis isn’t there right now, because he knows Louis wouldn’t ever let him live it down.

Harry… doesn’t hear him, too animatedly discussing something with Jade. He walks casually over to him, bumping him with his hip. Harry grins at him. “I was telling Jade I found this great hat the other day,” he murmurs. “It’s so lovely, wide-rimmed and comfortable. Won’t be getting any sunburns next summer, not me.”

Liam nods. He feels bad, but he’s paid attention to basically none of that. “Hey, can I talk to you a minute?” he asks.

“Course,” Harry says. He follows Liam to the stairwell they always end up at. “What’s going on, mate?”

He groans, sliding down with his back against the wall. “I’m going on a date with Perrie’s friend,” he murmurs. “Sophia, I guess her name is?”

Harry chuckles, sitting next to him. “Why’s that bad?”

 _Because of Louis_ , he thinks. “I have no idea how to go on a date,” he moans. “Like. What do you even talk about on a first date? I was engaged for three years, we were talking about flower arrangements over dinner every evening for ages.”

Harry shrugs. “I mean, what d’you talk about with friends?”

He stares at him. “I’m not treating a date like a friend, Haz.”

“Oh, Liam.” He puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “Perrie’ll be there, yeah?”

Liam nods. “Yeah, s’a double date with her and Zayn.”

“Then you’ll be fine,” he says, waving a hand. “Christ, I thought there was something real to worry about. Just let them lead the discussion and tell the girl how fit you think she is.” In the next minute, he hands Liam an orange, pressing it into his hand. “Found this in the lift,” he says cheerfully. “Was gonna eat it but I think you need the vitamins much more than I do.”

Liam stares at him, nodding weakly. “Vitamins. Right.” An orange found in the _lift_ , honestly.

“Hey,” Harry murmurs, pressing his leg against Liam’s in a weirdly comforting gesture. “Is that all that’s wrong?” 

He shrugs, looking down at his hands. 

“I’m gonna ask you a question,” Harry says, very quietly. “And I’d appreciate it if you answered it honestly, but obviously I have no way of tracking that. Okay?”

Liam nods. “I’ll answer.” He thinks he knows the question, anyway.

Harry waits a second before he asks it. “Do you know the reason Louis left?”

Christ. Liam wasn’t expecting that. “Yeah,” he says when he’s gotten ahold of himself. He doesn’t look at Harry, though he can see him trying to catch his eye. 

“And you let him go?” he asks. 

Liam closes his eyes tight. “I was _engaged_.” 

“And then you weren’t.”

“I didn’t want him to be my rebound,” he says, leaning his head back against the wall with a thunk. “I didn’t want him to think he was. I wanted more than that and, by the time I felt comfortable, he was with Niall.” He shrugs. “We didn’t get the timing right. Don’t think he’d be interested now, anyway. Wouldn’t blame him.” He tries to keep his tone light. He’s not trying to be self-pitying, just honest. He picks at the peel of the orange, just for something to do. 

Harry hums. After a minute, he says, “Tell her how pretty she is. But be honest about it.” 

Liam frowns at him. “Hmm?”

“Sophia,” he explains, gentle. 

“Oh.” Right. “Any other advice?” 

Harry shrugs. “Drink something masculine, if you drink? Nothing delicious.”

It takes him back to all those months ago, Louis grinning as he said, _never drink this on a date_. It hits him like a punch. He nods, trying to keep his face even. “Right. Thanks.” 

Harry links his arm through Liam’s and leans his head on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Liam,” he says quietly. 

It’s meaningless, Liam knows that, but he appreciates it anyway. 

* 

Sophia is wonderful.

She’s smart and charming and she flirts with Liam in the best way. She’s cheeky without being pushy and he likes her a lot. 

Liam’s awkward, can feel his comments missing the mark, but she ignores it, smiling wide at him like he’s the only guy in the room.

But — god, it’s embarrassing to think it like this, but he realises it when he’s in the bathroom splashing water onto his face — she’s not Louis.

She’s perfect, but not for him.

He sounds like a teenager, but it’s true. He’s more over his ex-fiancee than Louis. He takes a shaky breath and goes back out to her. 

At the end of the date, she squeezes his hand, a little sad. “Perrie said you were over her,” she murmurs. “You’re not, though, are you?” It comes out a little accusingly, but he can’t blame her for it.

He swallows hard, looking down. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Waste of an evening.”

She laughs, bright and loud. God, it reminds him of Louis. He’s a terrible person. “Dunno if I’d say that. I got a free dinner out of it, and some great company.” She shrugs her coat on, tossing her hair out of the way. She kisses him on the cheek. “Take care, Liam.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “You, too.”

He doesn’t turn any music on in the car because for the first time in a while he has a song in his head, and he feels like he can fill in the lyrics. He’s drumming the beat on the steering wheel. He pulls out his keyboard when he gets home, pencil between his teeth, marking things down in the notebook he hasn’t used in a while.

He sits back and thumbs through the pages, smiling a little at the marks. God. They’re all about love, all of them, the importance and significance of it.

Again, he feels like a terrible person for treating Louis like that, for letting him go when he had a chance to keep him.

He swallows, pushing the notebook aside. He leans his head forward, resting it in his hands.

Maybe he will start taking lessons, try to teach. There’s no one to stop him, not this time.

Absurdly, he thinks, as he starts researching it (London, that might be nice. And he’s not thinking that because of Louis. And no matter what Danielle says, he could be a city guy, he _could_ ), Louis would be proud of him.

He pushes that thought down. The level of significance he’s putting on Louis is getting unhealthy, he knows that.

(It’s just — it feels like the biggest missed opportunity of his life, and he wouldn’t wish ill on Niall, whoever he is, but he wants. He _wants_ , god. Feels like he’s never wanted someone this much.

He thinks about their kiss too often, thumbs out texts like _I should have told you I’m in love with you_ before erasing them. It isn’t fair, wouldn’t be right.)

Just as absurdly, he thinks about calling Danielle when he’s lying in bed. His thumb hovers over the button, her number he can’t bring himself to delete. She’d come, he knows she would; he’s not being vain, just factual. He’s the one who ended it. 

He could apologise, tell her the whole story, promise to be better this time. They could fly to America, Vegas, get married in some seedy building that’s one marriage away from crumbling. They could start their lives, he thinks.

He might be happy that way. It rings false even in his own mind.

He eventually decides not to call her. He rolls over, trying to get some sleep.

* 

“Liam!” Nick shouts into his megaphone.

Liam jumps a meter into the air and turns to glare at him, setting his pen down.

Nick shrugs, holding the megaphone at his side. “You weren’t listening to me. I tried to call you.” He gestures toward Liam’s desk.

Liam walks around and sees a bunch of balled-up pieces of paper. He frowns. “Did you try to throw these at me?”

He nods. “And you wouldn’t answer me no matter how hard I threw so I knew I had to resort to drastic measures.”

Liam closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “What d’you need, Grim?” he asks, voice carefully even.

“Go grab Zayn and come to my office,” he says.

Liam frowns. “Why don’t you shout for him on the megaphone?”

Nick looks at him like he’s grown two heads. “That’s not nice, and I wouldn’t do that to him. Not just after his promotion.” He pauses. “Also, I can’t throw that far.” He goes back into his office without another word.

Liam sighs and goes over to Zayn’s desk. “Nick needs us,” he says as dryly as he can.

Zayn snorts, closing out of whatever program he’d been doing. “Oh, is this why he asked me if I could draw?”

Liam wrinkles his nose. “Dunno,” he says. “Nick just shouted for me to come in and told me to grab you.”

“Hmm.” Zayn grabs what looks to be a sketchbook and follows Liam to Nick’s office.

Nick’s waiting for them, fingers steepled, face serious. “Shut the door, please, Liam my dear.”

Liam does and sits down, as does Zayn. “What do you need?” he asks, trying to keep his voice upbeat. Things annoy him a lot more when he doesn’t have somebody to complain about them with, he’s found.

“We never settled on a new logo,” Nick says. “We’re still using the same font and style that we were back in 2011 and that’s not on. We may be a company that relies on history, but we should be current! Fresh!” He leans back in his chair, hands laced together and resting on his knee. “Or so Cazza tells me.”

Liam frowns. “I’m shit at art, though.”

“You just haven’t put your mind to it,” Nick says, waving away his complaints. “I need the two of you to stay late tonight, so long as neither of you are busy.”

“Um,” Liam says. He can’t think of a diplomatic way to say _do I have to?_ and so he stays quiet, just shifting in his seat.

“I’ll buy you pizza,” Nick says, offering them a big, cheesy grin. “I’ll be there, too, obviously. Harry’s watching Puppy for me. She gets lonely.” He frowns. “But I’m not allowed to bring her into work. Allergies, apparently.” He rolls his eyes. “Who’s allergic to dogs? Honestly?”

“Tina, I think,” Liam says.

“ _Tina_ ,” Nick says with an absurd amount of venom in his voice. “Anyway!” He claps. “You don’t have to get it all done tonight, obviously, but an outline would be a nice start.”

“Actually, Friday would work better,” Zayn says, wincing. “Pez and I have a date tonight.”

Nick worries at his lower lip. “I’d normally say that’s fine,” he says, more apologetically than he ever says anything to Liam, “but not this time. Caroline’s been on my back to do it for a good few months now, and I was hoping that it would just go away and be delegated to another branch, but we just got the news about London.” He shrugs.

“Hang on,” Liam says. “What’s that about London?”

Nick shakes his head. “Not important. You two are important!” He smiles. “You’ll both be getting paid for your time, and there’ll be food and drink for you. Okay?”

They don’t really have a choice, though Nick makes it sound like they do. “All right,” Liam says, shrugging over at Zayn. He hasn’t gotten to know Zayn particularly well – Harry’s absurd vendetta against him for getting awarded _Hottest in the Office_ means that he gets mad when Liam talks to him – but he seems nice enough. Quiet, but nice.

“Thank you,” Nick says, and he genuinely sounds appreciative.

*

When everyone else is gone, Liam makes his way over to the conference room, cracking his neck. He’s exhausted. He hasn’t been sleeping that well lately – it feels like everything is infinitely more stressful these days, which doesn’t make any sense. Danielle was such a source of stress in his life that it feels like it should be better, but it’s not. He just feels more bogged down than ever.

Maybe he’s lonely, he thinks with a bit of derision. He sits in the most comfortable chair and leans back, staring at the ceiling. There’s a weird orange stain. If Liam squints, it almost looks like a penguin.

“What’re you looking at?” Zayn asks from right next to him.

“Shit!” Liam jumps and kicks and nearly falls out of the chair.

Zayn raises an eyebrow and sits down next to him, leaning back as well, feet stretched out. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Nah,” Liam says. “I’ve just been tired lately. Less observant.”

Zayn nods like this makes sense.

“Boys!” Nick says, coming into the room with a flourish, phone in hand. “Okay, pizza’s on the way, and I’ve got soda in the break room. I keep it behind everything else, but for the love of god don’t tell anyone. It’s my secret, for when I forget about a birthday.” He looks up at the two of them. “Not that I’ve ever forgotten either of yours, of course. You’re both integral to the company.”

He leaves to grab it and Liam makes a face at Zayn, who laughs.

“Here it is!” Nick says, carrying a case back in.

“Hey,” Liam says, frowning. He holds up a can. “This is the stuff you had at my party this year.”

“Yes, well,” Nick says, and sits down without finishing his sentence, flipping through the folder he’s brought in. “These are the parameters Caroline’s set out for us. We want it to be similar to what we’ve got now, but more streamlined. Right now it’s a bit jumbled. We want to make it clear that we’re a map company, you know, since the company name’s so basic.”

Liam nods, and he and Zayn look over the sheet together. He makes a few notes in the margins.

Nick’s phone rings. He rolls his eyes and holds up a finger, answering it. “Yes, Harry?” He listens for a minute and the smile drops off of his face. “What? Fuck. Okay. On my way.” He hangs up. “Harry left the door open and Puppy’s gotten out,” he says, fast. “Um – if you have any questions you can call me or ask tomorrow. Pizza money’s on my desk. Thanks!” He all but runs out of the office.

Zayn frowns after him. “How likely is it that Puppy actually got out?”

“Infinitely more likely that Harry got bored and missed him,” Liam says, rolling his eyes. “Or he planned it from the beginning, considering he left pizza money out.”

Zayn’s quiet for a second, smile playing at the edge of his mouth. Then he says, “I don’t mind. Rather be rid of him, if I’m honest.” He winces. “Is that mean?”

Liam shakes his head without hesitation. “Not at all. Nick’s kind of… overbearing.” That’s a good way to put it. “I love him, he’s a great friend, but he’s not the best boss in the world.”

Zayn snorts. “I think that’s the meanest I’ve ever heard you.”

Liam shrugs. “I keep most of it inside. Easier that way.”

Zayn scoots his chair closer and laughs, shaking his head. “So,” he says. “Did he actually order pizza?”

Liam shrugs. “Probably. If he didn’t, he knows I’d call him just to interrupt whatever he and Harry are in the middle of.”

“Right,” he murmurs. “Good for us, at least. ‘m starved. Didn’t have time to make lunch this morning.”

“Why?” Liam asks, more out of politeness than interest.

He rolls his eyes. “Perrie’s just moved in,” he explains. “She’s rearranged my entire flat, I swear. Didn’t know where anything was this morning. Took me a half hour to find my shirts, which she’d put in the _linen_ closet.”

Liam laughs, and it almost surprises him. “That sounds like her.”

“I love her,” Zayn says, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair, “but she can be very, very demanding.”

“Dan was the same way,” Liam says. It doesn’t hurt to say it, which makes him smile. “I moved into her flat, essentially, and she didn’t want any of my furniture to come with me. Kept complaining about how it was both of our space, not just mine. It was our first big fight.”

Zayn’s frowning. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no,” he says. “I know it just ended a few months ago but it feels like it was longer?” It’s weird, sharing this much of himself with someone he knows as little as Zayn, but Zayn seems trustworthy and as though he’s actually interested. “I was kind of… losing interest for a while there. Just had to get up the nerve to actually end it.”

“Still,” he says, shrugging in a way that doesn’t feel flippant. “It’s gotta be rough, ending something that lasted that long. Louis was telling me, you guys were together for ages.”

“Yeah,” he says. Hearing Louis’ name _does_ hurt and he closes his eyes, trying to take a deep breath and not lose it. He’s been doing so well, not thinking about him.

“Sorry,” Zayn says.

The door opens and Liam gets up to go grab the pizza, grabbing the money off the desk. Predictably, Nick’s not left a tip and so Liam rummages through his pockets for extra money, handing it over and apologizing for the wait. He brings it back into the conference room, grinning. “Smells delicious,” he says. “Nick has good taste in pizza, at least.” He opens the first and grabs a slice, humming around a bite.

“So,” Zayn says, grabbing a piece of his own. “How hard do we have to work on this?”

“Do you have any ideas?” Liam asks.

Zayn shakes his head.

“Eh, a few hours.” He shrugs, grabbing a napkin and wiping off his fingers. “I think they just want us to have something, rather than everything.”

Zayn nods, and wipes his own fingers off, grabbing his sketchbook. “Something like this?” he asks, drawing a simple logo that’s pretty similar to their own.

Liam hums. “Yeah, but I think the O and D should be bigger.”

They work on the logo until it’s dark outside and Liam’s yawning every few words, behind his hand.

“Sorry,” he says, when he has to cut himself off mid-sentence with a yawn. “I’m just tired.”

“Yeah,” Zayn says. He rubs at his own eyes, which are bloodshot. “Shit. How much longer do you think we have?”

“I think it’s good?” Liam asks, staring at it. “Either that or I’m so tired of seeing it that I want to say it is,” he says, laughing.

Zayn hums, erasing some of the fuzzier edges. “I think so, too. I can scan this in on my computer, it shouldn’t take more than a half hour.” He smiles at him. “You can leave, if you want.”

“Nah, I’ll stay with you. I don’t mind.”

“Yeah?” Zayn grins, getting up and taking his sketchbook over to his computer. Liam flicks the lights on and then follows him. “That’s nice of you.”

He shrugs.

“Oh, shit,” Zayn says when he catches sight of his phone on his desk. It’s lit up. “Perrie,” he explains, and Liam nods his understanding. He dials her number and leans forward. “Babe!” he says into the phone. “Sorry, that thing Nick asked me to do ran a lot longer than I thought. I’m – yes, I’m with Liam,” he says, frowning. “I am! Do you want to talk to him?” He hands the phone over, mouthing _sorry_.

 _It’s fine_ , he mouths back, taking the phone. “Perrie?”

“Liam!” She sounds angry. “Are you trying to steal my man?”

“No,” he says, as calmly as he can. “I promise. We were just working on a project.”

“If you are,” she says as though she’s not heard him, “That’s horrible and you should stop, though you wouldn’t be the first.” She grumbles for a minute. “Are you _sure_?”

“I’m very sure.”

“Is he trying to get with you?”

He looks at Zayn, who’s completely focused on his work. “Definitely not.”

She sighs. “Will you tell him to get home, then? His landlady’s stopped by twice and I don’t think she believes me when I say he’s out.”

“Yes,” Liam promises. “I’ll get him home within the hour, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, but she still sounds distrusting. Liam hands the phone back over to Zayn, who seems to reassure her before he hangs up.

Liam looks over at him. “She’s really worried about you cheating on her,” he says, can’t help himself. It’s late enough that he’s lost his filter.

“Uh,” Zayn says. “I might have done. Once.” He winces. “I thought we were broken up, it was a big mess. She still hasn’t forgiven me. But I _love_ her.”

“I’m sorry, mate,” Liam says automatically. He laughs. “But I don’t think the _Friends_ defense holds much water anymore.”

“I know,” he grumbles. “Thanks for talking to her, though. She said you seem like a stand-up fellow, whatever that means.”

He laughs. “Tell her I say thanks.”

They finish the project quickly and Zayn emails it to Nick. “We’re done!” he says, grinning and high-fiving Liam.

They walk down together. It’s eerily quiet.

“Don’t think I’ve ever left this late,” Liam murmurs, flicking the lights off on his way out. He frowns. “Don’t like it.”

“Neither do I.” Zayn jumps at a tree branch in a window. “I, uh, don’t really like the dark.”

Liam tries very hard not to laugh, but he can’t help the little snicker.

Zayn glares at him.

Liam bumps his shoulder and grins, looking down.

“Good night, Liam,” Zayn says when they make it to the parking lot.

“Bye,” Liam says, waving.

He smiles, getting into his car. Tonight was nice, he realizes, starting his car and heading home. Maybe he and Zayn can be actual friends. Especially, he thinks, inwardly rolling his eyes, now that Perrie seems to have determined that he’s not a threat to her relationship.

He gets a text as he’s heading to bed.

 _Nick_ 01:25

_Thanks for getting it done. You’re a lifesaver, Liam._

He falls asleep before he can respond, but it’s with a smile on his face. 

*

At three in the morning, on a night in November, Liam hears his phone ring. It’s not a specific ringtone so he knows it isn’t Harry or his mum. He ignores it, shoving a pillow over his head to drown out the sound.

It beeps three times, letting him know there’s a voicemail. Probably Perrie or something, he figures; she’s angry at him for how he treated Sophia, keeps yelling at him about how he needs to get over _whoever you’re hung up on_. Christ, doesn’t he know.

He falls asleep without checking it. 

It’s not until work the next day that he remembers to check his phone and his stomach flips when he sees it’s a missed call from Louis. He widens his eyes, hitting play on the message.

The background noise is loud, and Louis is shouting. “You’re a dick!” he shouts. “Harry told me that Zayn told him that Perrie set you up with — with some girl! Fuck,” he says, and there’s a crashing noise. “Hang on, you dick, I’ve got to get somewhere quieter.” 

There’s a loud slam, and then Louis is back, closer to the phone. It’s almost intimate. “You listened to Perrie? She’s dating Zayn, clearly she’s got terrible taste in men!” He sighs, loud and petulant. “That was mean, Zayn’s pretty. Not as pretty as me, though.” He audibly trips, swearing. “I was fucked over you for ages and then you call it off with — with _her_ —” Liam hasn’t ever heard that much venom in someone’s voice, god, “— and now you’re going out with some girl named Sophia? Why not me?” His breath hitches and he just breathes for a minute.

Liam can’t take this; he should’ve listened at home, but he’s at work. Luckily it’s just the accounting girls at this point, Leigh-Anne talking about her night in a low, conspiratorial voice to Jade.

“Don’t give me that shit about me misinterpreting, either,” Louis is saying, angry again. “Because that’s not what it was. I felt that kiss!” he insists. He sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m with Niall. I’m with Niall, because you won’t have me, and I love him but —” There’s another slam, and then the message ends.

He bites his lip. He doesn’t delete the message, saves it; god, he wants to etch it into his mind, remember the way Louis’ breath hitched for the rest of his life.

He texts Louis. _do u rmember calling me last night?_ He puts his phone to the side, pretending to do work, like he’s not absolutely impatiently waiting for Louis’ text.

It comes around noon. _I was pretty wasted, so no._

He doesn’t know what to say to that; _you asked why I didn’t go out with you_ is too accusatory, too much.

In his need to think of something perfect to say, he doesn’t reply, leaves his phone beside him and silent for the rest of the day.

It’s better this way, he figures.

He listens to it again when he gets home, hand over his mouth, rubbing at his stubble. God, he misses him, righteous anger and habit of throwing bottles and all.

He swallows past it, and when he’s listened to it for a fourth time hits delete. He’s got it close to memorised, anyway. 

* 

Harry comes up to him the next day, with a little bottle of some dark stuff that’s labeled _Liam_. “Was anything up with you yesterday?” He asks, falsely uninterested. “Like. You seemed pretty… agitated.”

“Nah,” he says, setting the bottle to the side. It’s jam. Not banana this time, thankfully. “Nothing in particular, I suppose. Agitated how?”

He shrugs. “I, like. Saw you on your phone and then Louis — I mean — then I was talking to some people.” He winces.

Liam closes his eyes. He knows Harry won’t leave until he explains. “I got a weird voicemail from Louis,” he says tonelessly.

“Weird how?”

“Weird in the sense that I haven’t talked to him in a long time,” he murmurs.

Harry nods and he goes quiet for a minute. “What’d he, uh, talk about?” he asks, barely looking up at him.

That’s — god, no, he’s not going to tell Harry, not when he can barely figure it out himself. “Niall,” he says after a second. “He talked about how in love with Niall he was. It was — pretty slurred, though, I didn’t get too much out of it.” He looks down at his hands and tries not to feel too guilty for lying. “He just said how much he loved him.”

“Oh,” Harry says, frowning. There’s a little crease between his eyebrows. “Sorry. He — I thought it was something else.”

He nods, doesn’t say anything. “Just Louis, getting drunk and leaving voicemails, you know how he does,” he says. It’s not a joke, but he says it in the tone of one.

Harry laughs, just as flat. “Right,” he murmurs.

Liam shrugs. “I’m sorry I’ve been so weird. It’s just — you know. Been a weird few months. Hard, like.” That’s possibly the biggest understatement he’s ever given.

Harry nods, giving him a small half-smile, like he doesn’t believe Liam (and honestly, Liam’s sick to death of that, everyone treating him like he’s breakable). “If you ever need anything, just let me know. And let me know what you think of the jam. If you like it I’ve got loads more. All you have to do is ask.”

Liam nods, looking back down at his desk. 

Harry pauses. “He really did love you,” he says, frowning. “I think if you talked to him, you —”

“He’s with Niall,” Liam says. “He lives in London. It wouldn’t work.” It’s what he tells himself all the time. 

Harry shrugs, mouth twisted to the side. “You’d only know if you asked him,” he says gently. 

Nick calls him into his office just then and Liam has almost definitely never been so grateful for that in his life. 

*

Harry leans forward on Liam’s desk, one day in early December. “I just got some _very_ interesting news.”

Liam snorts, looking up at him. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“The London branch closed,” he says, soft.

Liam’s mouth moves soundlessly. Any work he’d done getting to a place where he was good with Louis, where he wasn’t thinking about him so much, is gone, pulled out from under him. “It. Um. It did?”

Harry nods, staring at him. “We’re getting some new employees, Nick told me.”

Liam looks down. “Does he know who?” He murmurs.

Harry shakes his head. “Not that I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers. He clears his throat. “I was just curious. I’d like to see my friend again, you know?” He puts too much emphasis on the word, but whatever. He’s exhausted.

Harry nods. “Yeah, I know, me too. But, you guys were close,” he murmurs.

Liam nods. He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know if he should hope or not. 

“He doesn’t want to talk to me anymore,” he murmurs. “He never responds when I text him.” 

“You’re gonna have to do better than _how’s Niall_ for that, I’m afraid,” Harry murmurs.

Liam sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “I don’t know what’s safe. Now that I know —” He cuts himself off, shaking his head.

“That he loves you?” Harry offers. 

Liam shakes his head. “That I love him.”

“Tell him,” Harry offers, quiet.

“No,” Liam murmurs. “He’s dating someone else.” 

“So were you. It depends if you want it or not,” Harry says. “I mean, figure out if you’re serious first — I will actually hurt you if you break his heart again —”

Liam looks up, wide-eyed. Hearing Harry say it like that is, god, it’s horrible. “I broke his heart?”

Harry’s face falls and he looks around the office. No one’s paying attention to them, but Liam gets it; it still feels exposed. “I can’t,” he murmurs. “I think — just talk to him, okay?”

Liam nods slowly. “Right, yeah.”

Harry stares at him. “He’s not going to turn you down or whatever it is you’re thinking.”

“Break my heart,” he says sarcastically. “No, I just — I don’t even know how I feel, okay? I just want us to be friends. That’s all I want.” He pauses. “I don’t want to split him up with anyone.”

The look on Harry’s face shows that he doesn’t believe him, but once again — and God, Liam loves him for it — he doesn’t say anything, just nods and goes back to his desk.

Liam tries not to focus on it for the rest of the day. Luckily, he doesn’t have to. The London branch was bigger, and so they’re getting a lot more business, having to take on their clients.

“Liam!” Nick calls, half through the day.

Liam goes into his office, smiling a little. “Yeah?”

“I need you to do something for me,” he says, and hands him a folder chock full of papers. “Organise these by regions and then get them back to me? I’ll hand them out to the sales staff.” His quiff’s flat on his head and he’s wide-eyed like he usually gets around tax season.

Liam nods, taking the papers without a word.

“Oh, and Liam?”

He half-turns.

“We’re going to have three newcomers. Or, rather, one old-timer and two new.”

Liam closes his eyes. Thank god, he thinks. “Right,” he starts.

“One’s called Niall, and the other’s named Josh, I guess.”

Without being dramatic, Liam’s pretty sure that this is the worst news he’s ever gotten. Fuck. He nods, as calmly as he can manage and smiles at Nick. “Thanks for letting me know,” he says.

“Right,” Nick says. He frowns a little. “Liam, are you feeling all right?”

He shrugs. “Just a little poorly,” he lies. He swallows hard, and he’s shaking a little. Maybe it’s not such a lie.

Nick nods, frowning. “Louis is coming too,” he says after a while. “If you didn’t get that.”

Liam nods. “I — yeah. I figured.”

“Right.” Nick looks down. “If you want to talk about anything, Liam,” and _oh, god_ , Liam thinks, “Matt’s office is, like, ten meters from here.”

Liam laughs, soft. “Thanks, Nick.”

He quirks a smile at him. “Anytime.”

He goes back to his desk, sitting down. Louis is coming back. With his new boyfriend, but _Louis_ is coming back. He bites his lip, but he only has a moment to reflect on it before the phone rings.

“One Direction Maps, this is Liam,” he says cheerfully.

* 

The day Louis comes back, Liam can barely get dressed. 

He fumbles with his shirt buttons, biting his lip and staring at himself in the mirror. He hasn’t been this nervous in ages, god.

He finally manages to get dressed and goes into work, heart racing. It’s not — god. He’s not going to do what Harry said, he’s not going to try to get together with him. He’s just going to talk to an old friend, is all.

He puts out extra candy, smiling. When Harry comes in, shirt mostly unbuttoned and hair an absolute mess around his head, he looks Liam up and down with a raised eyebrow. “Someone’s dressed up,” he murmurs.

Liam smooths down his shirt, self-conscious. “I just wanted to look nice,” he murmurs.

Harry snorts. “Look nice for Louis, you mean?”

“Oh, is he coming in today?” Liam asks, giving him a look.

Harry rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he goes back to his desk, Nick right behind him.

Nick gives Liam an encouraging look and a smile, which — god, Liam hadn’t thought of the implications of the two of them living together, but he feels acutely like he’s under a microscope with the way Nick’s looking at him.

Nick’s put together gift baskets for all the new hires and Liam’s got all of them sitting by his desk, right next to his feet that he can’t quite keep still.

“Hi!” comes a bright, loud voice. Liam looks up. The guy’s blonde with a wide smile, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he waves at Liam. “Hi, I’m one of the new guys — obviously, I s’pose. Name’s Niall.”

Liam’s heart sinks a little, but he pushes past it. He smiles at him. “I’m Liam,” he says, and grabs the basket, handing it over. “Here you go, and your desk’s the one with your name tag on it.” He keeps his smile wide and plastered on his face.

Niall tilts his head. “You’re Liam?” he asks. “Shit, you’re —”

“I’m sorry?” he interrupts, heart beating harder. 

“Niall!” Nick shouts, bursting out of his office. “Welcome to the Manchester branch of One Direction Maps, Incorporated!” He grabs Niall by the arm and shows him around the office, starting with, “You don’t want to talk to reception, he’s horribly boring…”

Liam rolls his eyes and looks back down, biting his lip as he goes through his emails. Why Harry insists on emailing his work address in the middle of the night with new ideas for businesses he can incorporate, Liam will never understand, but he reads all of them and pretends he can’t feel Harry’s eyes on him, waiting for something.

“Hello,” comes a soft and blessedly familiar voice. “I’m looking for the receptionist, but I’m told he’s not very good at his job.”

Liam grins, getting up and throwing his arms around Louis. “Hi,” he says, all traces of nervousness gone. “I’ve missed you.”

Louis giggles, bright and loud. He shoves him away. “You completely ruined the bit I was doing!”

“I know,” he says, and pulls back, still grinning. “It was a stupid bit.”

Louis shakes his head, pouting. “You’ve gotten meaner since I left.” He squeezes his arm, pulling back. “Taller, too, I’m pretty sure. You and Harold. Absolute giants.”

“Shouldn’t have left, then,” he mumbles. He means it to be an answer to the height thing, but he winces after he’s said it and realizes how it sounds. 

Louis’ eyes go wide and he opens his mouth as though he’s going to say something, but then Nick is shouting, “Louis!” and running out of his office again.

Liam snorts as Nick throws his arms around him and Louis squawks in protest, pushing at him. “Get off me, I’m not one of the newbies, stop trying to butter me up!” He shouts. Nick doesn’t let go. “Niiiiiiiick, god,” he whines. 

Nick frogmarches the two of them over to Louis’ desk and kisses his cheek with a loud smack. “I’ve missed you!”

Liam keeps reading his emails and he can’t stop smiling.

“Hang on!” Comes Louis’ shout a minute later. “How come I’ve not got a gift basket? This is blasphemy, I swear, Nicholas.”

“You literally just said you weren’t one of the newbies and I shouldn’t treat you as such,” Nick says with a shrug. He’s let go of Louis by this point, leaning against Harry’s desk and fixing his quiff. “I was only listening to you, mate.”

Louis frowns. “’M not your mate,” he mumbles, and looks at Liam, making a face.

Christ, Liam’s missed him.

* 

Later, Liam walks into the break room. Louis is sitting by himself, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey,” Liam says, sitting down across from him, mug of tea in his hands. “We should go out for coffee tonight or something. Catch up.”

Louis’ voice is flat when he says, “I’ve got a boyfriend, Liam.” He doesn’t look up from his phone.

Liam swallows hard. “I know,” he murmurs. “Just coffee, Lou.” 

Louis closes his eyes. This time, when he speaks, it’s softer, almost gentle. “Maybe another time. I’m still getting settled in.” He gets up, leaving Liam sitting by himself.

He just stays there, staring down into his mug of tea, and he thinks that maybe, now he understands how Louis felt.

* 

Louis comes up to his desk at the end of the day. He’s biting his lip, fiddling with his jacket. “So,” he starts. He doesn’t continue.

Liam looks at him expectantly. “Yeah?” He offers when it becomes clear Louis isn’t going to say anything.

He still won’t look at Liam. “So, Niall and I are going out tonight with Harry and Nick, and it’s not really a double date so much as me catching up with an old friend whose boyfriend happens to be coming along. You’re welcome to come if you want.”

“Where?” Liam asks, tilting his head.

Louis names a pub that’s near their building, looking at Liam almost tentatively.

“Do you want me there?” Liam asks, soft, because he can’t help himself. “Like, if Nick’s making you ask, or whatever, I won’t —”

Louis gives him a flat look and Liam cuts himself off. “Of course I want you there, you idiot.” He looks out the door, drumming his hands on the desk. “They’re getting going, though, so. If you want…”

“Right.” He nods, getting up and pulling his jacket on. He swallows, going out the door. Louis follows him silently.

Louis stares at his shoes the entire time they’re in the elevator.

In the parking lot, Liam’s mildly surprised to not see anyone else. “Where’s Niall?” he asks as normally as he can manage.

“At the pub, I reckon,” Louis says.

So they don’t live together, then. Stupidly, idiotically, his chest feels a little lighter at that.

When he gets to his car, he takes a deep breath before getting in, readying himself for a really awkward night.

* 

“Liam!” Niall shouts when he gets into the bar. He’s laughing, a half-empty pint in front of him. From the state of the table it looks like he’s been trying and failing to toss peanuts into his mouth. “Liam, mate, Harry was just talking about you. Weren’t you, Harry? Three year engagement?” He whistles, low. “That’s, like. An accomplishment in itself. Never mind that the marriage fell through.”

Liam laughs despite himself. It should feel insulting. He’s used to people taking the piss out of him for the engagement, but Niall doesn’t make it feel that way. It feels like he’s really just commenting on the state of things rather than judging him at all. He grins and sits next to Harry. “Yeah,” he says, smiling in thanks when Nick hands him a beer. “Yeah, three years.”

Niall shakes his head, slow. “’Ve never done that,” he says around a mouthful of peanuts. He chews and swallows before he continues. “Been with someone that long, I mean.” He grins at Louis, voice going all sappy. “Maybe we’ll change that, though.”

Liam looks down at his lap, trying to keep his expression neutral. He doesn’t see Louis’ response, but he registers that he doesn’t say anything. 

Harry presses his leg against his, comfortingly. Liam focuses on that before he drinks half his beer in one long pull.

Louis is staring at him when he finishes, wiping at his bottom lip. Louis swallows hard before he drags his eyes away, back to Niall, who’s going on about some band he’s just seen. 

Liam shivers, and tunes into Harry and Nick’s conversation.

“What do you _mean_ , you don’t like sports?” Harry says, mouth open. “You watched the football match with me last weekend!” 

“Harold,” Nick says very gently. “You made me. You threatened to leave my flat and take Puppy with you.”

Harry hums. “If you really hated it, you would’ve found a way out.”

Nick groans. “Liam,” he says, turning to him. “What do you think?”

Liam snorts. “Nope,” he says. “I’m not mediating an argument between my boss and my coworker, sorry.” 

“It’s because he knows I’m right,” Harry murmurs. 

Nick shoves him, but he’s laughing.

* 

It really doesn’t feel as though he’s intruding on a double date.

Niall is careful to include him in conversations and, other than his hand around the back of Louis’ chair, it’s like they’re not on a date at all. He buys everyone a round halfway through the night, waving away their promises to pay him back. Liam thinks that if he weren’t dating Louis, he might have become very good friends with him.

As it stands, he’ll have to try a little harder to get past the absurd jealousy.

“So,” Niall says, pointing at him. “I hear you sing. I’m going to _have_ to hear it sometime, Lou was telling me you were great.”

Liam blushes, shaking his head at Louis. “I don’t really in public, so much, anymore,” he says. “But maybe sometime, yeah.”

Maybe, he thinks, even including the Louis thing he can be friends with Niall. Louis doesn’t have a hold on him, after all.

At the end of the evening, while Liam’s waiting in line for the bathroom, Louis comes up to him and rests a hand on his back. 

“You’re a dick,” he whispers. 

Liam looks at him, frowning. He’s had one too many drinks. He’s not drunk and he’s sure that, even sober, that comment would confuse him. Most things with Louis do. “Hmm?”

Louis glares. “You’re not allowed to take Niall,” he hisses.

“I’m not,” he says. “What are you even —” He sighs, soft. “Lou,” he mumbles. “I don’t want Niall.” 

Louis stares at his mouth, swallowing visibly. “He’s _mine_ ,” he says fiercely.

“I don’t want Niall,” Liam repeats, more firmly than he should. _I just want you_ , he doesn’t say because he isn’t an idiot.

From the way Louis stares at him, wide-eyed and mouth open, Liam thinks he understands. It’s probably radiating off of him.

Louis moves so that he’s standing in front of him, arm still around Liam. “Why’d you call off your wedding?” He whispers, soft, urgent.

Liam’s about to answer — what? He doesn’t know — when Niall appears at their arms, grinning. He hugs Liam and then kisses Louis, hard and loud, giggling into his mouth. “Come back to mine,” he whispers. 

Liam maybe feels a bit sick. He says his goodbyes to Harry and Nick while Louis is focused on Niall and drives home with his hands too tight on the steering wheel, mind turning in a hundred different directions.

* 

“In the _kitchen_?” Nick shouts, coming out of the room with a bang. “Louis Tomlinson!”

Liam looks up from his conversation with Fiona, frowning. 

“Christ,” she murmurs, rolling her eyes. “Here, look — you need to change your address officially, I’m sorry, I just got a call from Caroline —”

Louis rushes out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him as well. “I can do what I want!” he shouts. “As though I’ve not walked in on you —”

“You can’t be fucking in the kitchen!” Nick says, crossing his arms and glaring at Louis. 

“We were _kissing_!” Louis opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, and then catches sight of Liam, who’s watching them without paying any attention to Fiona. He feels a bit sick. It’s been a while, and he hasn’t actually seen Louis and Niall be very affectionate. Sometimes he can convince himself that they aren’t, that they’re not actually in a relationship. 

And sometimes, like now, he’s rather horribly reminded. 

“It’s inappropriate,” Nick is saying, and points back toward HR, where a baffled Matt and Tina are. “That’s what they’re telling me all the time, and just because your relationship is _new_ and _on the record_ doesn’t mean you can shag whomever you’d like wherever.” 

Louis sighs, crossing his arms and dragging his eyes away from Liam. “Fine,” he says, clipped. 

Nick frowns. “What?”

“Fine. I won’t snog Niall in the kitchen anymore.” He looks back at Liam, for just a second. “Okay? Can I go back to my desk, or do you want to shout some more?” 

Nick shakes his head and Louis all ubt stomps back to his seat, sitting down heavily. 

Liam finally tunes back into what Fiona’s saying. She rolls her eyes and he nods, not looking back at Louis. 

Niall comes out of the kitchen looking shamefaced. “Sorry,” he says to Nick. “I wasn’t trying—”

“It’s fine,” Nick says quietly, but loud enough that Liam can hear it. “Just—fuck. Just get back to work.” 

On his way back to his desk, Liam pauses at Louis’. “That wasn’t on,” he says. 

Louis looks up at him. “Hmm?”

“Nick yelling at you like that. Not fair,” he murmurs. “Hypocritical.”

Louis stares at him, frowning just a bit. “Yeah,” he finally says, turning back to his work.

It’s a clear dismissal and Liam takes it, sitting down heavily and putting his head in his hands. He doesn’t know how to get back what he and Louis had and it’s driving him mad. He can’t talk to him at all anymore, it seems.

*

It takes a couple of weeks for him to realize that he and Louis aren’t friends anymore.

When he figures it out, it seems obvious: Louis won’t talk to him if there aren’t a group of people around. He never comes over to his desk anymore, not even to make fun of Harry. 

Sometimes, when he looks at Liam, it’s like he’s angry to even see him.

Liam doesn’t push it. He understands; he wouldn’t want to talk to himself much, either, not after everything.

Niall, though, is friendly with everyone. He always gives Liam a really enthusiastic hello and talks to him when they’re both on break, starts conversations about football that Liam only half-participates in before he has to beg out. He doesn’t want to admit he doesn’t know anything about football; Niall just gets so enthusiastic about it, he doesn’t mind listening.

Niall comes over to his desk one day, crouching down. “Harry’s just asked me to join an alliance,” he whispers. “How likely am I to get hurt if I agree?”

Liam stifles a giggle. “Do it,” he says. “He probably wants you to help him surprise Nick with something. You’ve replaced me, evidently.” 

“Nick?” Niall wrinkles his nose. “Why’re we surprising the boss-man?”

Liam laughs, loud. “They’re dating,” he says.

Niall’s eyes go wide. “You’re shitting me,” he says.

He shakes his head. They’re subtle at the office, almost, a hand on the back the only thing they’ll publicly do. “Been together for ages. Harry’s a love-struck idiot, probably wants to ask him to marry him or some such.”

“Shit,” Niall says. He laughs, soft. “Guess this company’s just a recipe for love, innit?”

Liam goes quiet for a second before he nods. “Guess it is.”

He smiles at him, clapping him on the back before going back to his desk. “I accept,” Liam hears him say to Harry.

Louis is watching Liam with a little frown on his face. Liam rolls his eyes, going back to his work.

* 

When Liam’s getting ready to leave, Louis touches his arm. “Hey,” he says quietly. 

“I’m not trying to steal Niall, so you’re aware,” he snaps before he can stop himself. “We’re friends, Louis.”

“I know,” he murmurs, resting his hand on Liam’s. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

Liam turns around, half-smiling. “What’d you say?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me say it again. Come on.”

Liam nods, staring at him. This is the first real conversation they’ve had in ages and it’s not even a real conversation, god. “I’m glad the two of you are happy,” he murmurs.

Louis nods, not making eye contact. “Really happy,” he mumbles.

Liam blinks. “Real convincing there.”

“No, I just.” He huffs out a breath. “We’ve been, like. Arguing a bit.” He pauses, mouth working.

Liam’s pretty sure he’s never felt more awkward in his life. “You want to talk about it?” he asks gently, anyway. Maybe this is the price he’ll have to pay to be friends with Louis again, to finally get rid of the awkwardness.

Louis wrinkles his nose. “You really want to?”

He shrugs. “Sure,” he murmurs.

Louis nods. “I just.” He looks around. “Tea?” he asks, a little desperate.

Liam nods, pulling his jacket on the rest of the way. “Let’s go.”

They head to the little cafe downstairs.

Louis doesn’t say much until they’re in a booth, both of them with mugs in their hands. He stares at the steam coming off of his tea. “This is weird,” he mumbles.

Liam shrugs, leaning back against the booth. “Not gonna get less weird until you talk about it.”

He flicks his eyes up to Liam’s and then back down, nodding. “He wants to move in with me,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” Liam opens his mouth, but can’t think of anything else to say. _Do you?_

“Okay, that’s a little bit of a lie.” He wrinkles his nose and closes his eyes. “He wants to move into the same flat building as me.”

“So, not with you, then.” He says it slowly, wanting to make sure he understands.

“Yeah,” he murmurs.

“And you don’t want to.”

Louis wrinkles his nose. “It’d be like living with him!” he says.

“Separate flats,” he reminds him gently, taking a sip of tea. “You’d still have a place of your own.” _Please don’t_ , he thinks. _Live with me. I love you._

Christ.

Louis nods. “I know,” he mumbles. “It’d just be _weird_ , you know?”

Liam hums, thinking it over. “I don’t know what you should do, mate, but I don’t think it’s a big deal if you guys live in the same building.”

“He’ll always be at mine,” he murmurs.

“So tell him you want a few nights apart,” he offers.

Louis snorts. “You know I’m not good at denying myself things I want.”

“Right.” He looks down, breathing in shakily. He can still remember the way Louis felt when he kissed him, god. “That’s… true.” He wants to be with him that much, he thinks a little bit sadly.

“And I do want to live with him, I guess? Or spend my time with him.” He leans back. “Just don’t know if I want it to be that serious.” He mumbles it, not looking at Liam. “He keeps talking about this all the time and I don’t know how I feel about that.”

Liam has never, ever known him to say something like this, but he nods, trying to process it. “I think you should just tell him that,” he murmurs. “He seems pretty easygoing, yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah, he is.”

“And you like him a lot.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is possibly the worst punishment Louis could have inflicted on him, making himself convince the two of them to be more serious than they are. _You deserve it and Louis deserves to be happy_ , he reminds himself. “Love him?” he offers.

Louis shakes his head and the looks at him then, head tilted a little. “How have you been?” he asks softly.

Liam shrugs, playing with the lid on his tea. “All right.”

“How’d that date with, ah…” He shrugs. 

“Sophia,” he murmurs. “It was all right. I’ve not seen her since.” Or anyone else, he thinks a little sadly.

Louis nods. “And Danielle?”

“Called it off, you know that.”

“Right, yeah.” He sighs. “Liam,” he murmurs, and then nothing else.

Suddenly, Liam cannot, absolutely cannot do this. “I’ve got to go,” he murmurs. “I — talk to Niall, okay? Living with someone’s not as scary as you think it is, I promise.” He grabs his tea and leaves without another look at Louis.

He drives with his music turned up loud, barely able to focus on anything. 

He watches TV until he falls asleep on the couch and doesn’t think about Louis, not at all.

* 

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to say. Thank you,” Niall says, leaning over his desk the next day.

Liam blinks up. “You’re welcome. For what?” he asks, frowning.

“Talking to Louis,” he murmurs. “Like. You didn’t have to and we’re moving in together. And just — like, it definitely had to do with you. So thanks.” He smiles, big and warm.

Liam nods, feeling a bit like he’s about to cry. “Anytime,” he manages. “Louis can be a bit of an idiot, you know?”

“God, yeah, I do,” Niall says, laughing. He goes back to his desk, squeezing Louis’ shoulder before he does.

Five minutes later, Liam gets up, can’t handle it anymore. He makes it down half the stairs before he starts crying, leaning with his back up against the wall, palms pressed against his eyes.

 _This is your own fault_ , he reminds himself. Everything about this is his fault and he doesn’t have a right to be crying but fuck, it hurts.

He can’t quite calm himself down, but after a few minutes he’s breathing more evenly, sniffling.

“Hey,” Harry murmurs, from only a little bit away.

He jumps about a meter into the air. “Shit,” he breathes, looking up. “Haz. Hi.” He wipes his eyes.

“You want to talk about it?” Harry asks. He holds out an unripe banana without another word.

Liam shakes his head, pocketing it. “Nothing to talk about,” he murmurs. He slides down the wall, sitting.

Harry pauses before he joins him on the ground. “I’m sorry about Louis,” he says finally.

Liam’s not about to have this conversation. He shakes his head, wiping his eyes again. “Fuck, no, this isn’t about him.” He can’t make it sound honest and he takes a deep, shuddery breath.

Harry, bless his heart, doesn’t call him out. “All right,” he murmurs, turning so he’s face him. “But, like. I love you, yeah? Y’can talk to me. About stuff.” He pauses a minute, and adds, “You wouldn’t be the first one to come to me” 

Liam nods, not trusting himself to say anything. Louis complained about him to Harry. God. If he were Harry, he wouldn’t be able to talk to him after what he’s done. _You broke his heart_ , he reminds himself. 

After a while, Harry pushes himself up with a smile at Liam, heading back upstairs and humming to himself.

Liam sighs, wiping his eyes and following. He catches eyes with Louis as he walks in and gives him a thumbs up with a stupid, unnatural smile on his face.

Louis’ face is puzzled, but Liam sits down, doesn’t bother explaining. He keeps the banana on his desk.

He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. 

*

“You absolutely still have to come to my wedding!” Andy shouts down the line. “I don’t care if Danielle’s gonna be there — or, actually, I’d rather she weren’t but _whatever_ , I’m not gonna take back her invitation — but you, my friend, are not allowed to not come.”

Liam pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “All right,” he murmurs. He’s a shitty friend for asking, probably, but he’s not seen Andy in close to a year. He’s not sure why he bothered asking. He should’ve just cancelled his RSVP, it’d hardly be worse than any of the shit Andy’s pulled over the years. “I’ll come, all right.”

“Good,” Andy tells him. “Anyway, there’ll be loads of girls there, won’t be hard to pick someone up. Tell ‘em you just got dumped, they go nuts for that.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to do that.”

“And that’s why you’ve not had a girlfriend in ages.”

“That and I did just break off a three-year engagement.”

Andy scoffs. “That was never gonna happen. She was way too crazy for you.”

Liam frowns. “Everyone keeps saying they didn’t expect it to happen,” he mumbles, mostly to himself.

Andy laughs, loud. “Well, _yeah_. She was crazy and, like, you were only with her because the sex was good.”

“That’s not why I was with her!” he insists. Christ, he remembers why he stopped talking to Andy. “And, hey, she wasn’t crazy,” he snaps. “Listen, I’ve got to go.”

“If you don’t come with a date I’ll find one for you!” Andy calls down the line.

Liam stabs the end call button viciously, tossing his phone to the side next to him. He runs a hand through his hair and gets up to go to the gym. It’s one night, he tells himself. 

* 

He realises, as he’s getting ready, that he hasn’t been to an event without Danielle in years. He doesn’t go to them, generally; all the weddings they’d gone together had been at her request. (He always gives a gift, though, even if he doesn’t attend. He’s not a terrible person, he figures, that way.)

He sighs, making sure his shirt is smooth on his chest, and looks at himself. Good as it’s going to get, he supposes.

He drives almost numbly, jiggling his leg. He hasn’t seen Danielle since the breakup and he doesn’t know how she’ll be. He doesn’t want to argue with her, just wants to get through the night.

It’s not until he gets out of his car and sees her on the lawn, smiling at someone, that it slams into him just how much he misses her. Misses having someone, he reminds himself. Christ. He swallows, heart racing, and walks a little bit away from her, setting his gift on the table. Andy grins at him, clapping him on the back hard enough he stumbles forward.

“Liam!” he shouts. The ceremony’s not for another hour but he’s already well past tipsy, Liam can tell.

Liam takes a step back, smiling as politely as he can. “Andy!”

“Danielle’s here,” Andy whispers, much too loud.

Liam nods and he doesn’t bother saying anything else before he walks away, just gives him a thumbs up. He finds a glass of champagne and downs it, looking around. He frowns. The flower arrangements look familiar.

“It’s our wedding,” Danielle tells him, much closer than he would have thought.

Liam jumps, turning around. She’s _right there_ and she looks so good in a gold dress, hair done up and makeup simple. God. He spends too long staring at her face and he knows she can tell by the way her face softens into a smile. “Yeah,” he says when he catches himself. “It looks really, really similar. How’d they…?” He trails off. “I mean, I’ve not talked to Andy in forever.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t the one planning it, were you?” Danielle murmurs, but it’s not unkind. She hums as she looks around. “I met with Daisie to get her help. Didn’t know that when she said she liked these flowers she meant quite this much. She laughs, a little bitter, grabbing Liam’s glass of champagne and drinking it.

Liam nods, biting his lip. It’s weird. “Could’ve been ours,” he murmurs, suddenly nostalgic.

Danielle tilts her head, looking at him. “You think this sucks for you?” she asks. “You’re not even the one that wanted to get married.” She keeps her voice just the same, kind. 

Liam looks at her, really looks, and he doesn’t know how to read her face. “I’m —” he starts.

She snorts, rolling her eyes, all her softness gone. “Don’t apologise. Please — don’t.” She grabs another glass and walks away, sitting down at her table.

Liam wants to follow her. He doesn’t.

The reception is beautiful; Andy and Daisie do a very giggly first dance, grinning at each other like nothing else matters. Because Liam’s sentimental and Louis barely looks at him these days, he chances a glance over at Danielle.

She’s watching him, too. She smiles, giving him a sad little wave, and jerks her head back toward the doors with a shrug.

He nods, getting up and following her out.

“Can I have this dance?” She asks, holding out her hand. She bites her lip.

Liam nods. He can’t say no; he’s never been good at saying no to her.

She smiles, pulling him close, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

She shakes her head. “Please — just — don’t,” she mumbles, pulling back and looking at him. “Don’t, all right? Don’t make it seem like —” She cuts herself off, shaking her head.

He nods, pressing his lips together. Even after all this time apart, he knows what she’s not saying. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “All right.” He pulls her back in, careful, and they sway to the music they can barely hear.

“You’ve got terrible rhythm,” she murmurs and he can feel her hide her smile against his shoulder.

He laughs, squeezing her hand. “You knew that.”

“Yeah,” she whispers. She looks at him, half-smile on her face. “I did.” She tilts her head. 

He swallows, leaning forward a little bit. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, an unconscious echo to their first kiss.

She nods, hand on his waist pulling him in. “Yeah,” she whispers, but she kisses him before he gets a chance.

It’s not fireworks and it’s not magic, but it’s the first real kiss he’s had in months. He sinks into it, holding her close.

The song ends and Danielle rests her forehead on his, taking a soft breath. “Want to come back to mine?” She asks and her voice cracks on the last word.

He nods, shaky. He knows it’s a terrible idea but god, he wants her, wants to be with her.

When they get inside it’s like the past seven years all sink into him at once and he melts into it, kissing her hard with a hand on the back of her neck.

“Don’t leave a mark,” she whispers when he’s got his mouth against her neck, and he nods, biting just once. 

* 

He wakes up alone in the bed to the sound of the shower running, with a note that just says, _you don’t have to stay_.

He doesn’t. He can read the unwritten _please_. He picks her dress from the night before up and folds it on the bed, leaving without a word to her.

He flops onto his couch when he gets back, eyes shut. He knows he fucked up but at least it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, he reasons. He’s not getting back together with her. One-time mistake. Whatever.

He rubs a hand over his face and doesn’t move for a long, long time. 

*

“Hey,” Perrie says, grinning at him on Monday. “Heard you had a great time this weekend.” 

He frowns. “What do you mean?” 

“Soph told me that she saw you leaving with some girl. Fit, she said.” She nudges his shoulder. “Good for you!”

“Hang on.” He sets his book aside. “When did Sophia see me? Like, the one I went on a date with?”

“Yeah.” She frowns. “She was at the wedding you were at, Liam,” she says slowly. “Anyway! Let me see this girl! Is she good enough for our Liam? Probably not.” 

“Um.” He shakes his head. “She — I went home with Danielle,” he says quietly. 

“ _Oh_. Liam,” she says, tsking. “Not a good idea.”

“It’s fine,” he says. “One-time mistake.”

From his desk, Louis snorts. “Don’t worry,” he says, looking over at the two of them. “You two’ll work it out.” He runs a hand through his hair, leaning back. 

Liam frowns hard. “No,” he says. “It’s _over_.” It feels important that Louis know. 

“Sure,” Louis says. “Whatever you say, Liam.” He gets up and walks to the kitchen, presumably to go find Niall. 

Perrie tilts her head at Liam. “Are you and he…” She cuts herself off. “Never mind.” 

“We’re not,” he tells her anyway. 

She waits a second. “Were you ever?”

He shakes his head. 

“Did you want to be?”

“I think that’s enough, Pez,” he says quietly. 

“Ah.” She nods, and ruffles his newly grown-in hair before she leaves. 

Liam gets up and walks into the kitchen, holding his mug. He’s not going to see Louis, he tells himself sternly. He’s just making some tea. 

“So,” he hears Leigh-Anne asking as he gets back there. “Who’s hottest in the office, d’you think?” 

He pauses outside the door and pretends to take a sip, because he can see Louis in there and, he knows what he’ll say, but he wants to listen anyway. 

“Mmm, Nick,” Harry says. “Liam is a close second, I suppose.” 

Liam wrinkles his nose. 

“I think Liam’s well fit,” Jade says. Liam smiles at that. 

“Now,” Fiona says, and she’s giggling. “Niall or Liam?” 

That’s got to be aimed at Louis. Liam freezes. 

Louis audibly sighs. “I’m not gonna pick,” he says. 

Liam smiles, blushing. Maybe — and it’s probably a joke, probably Louis trying to be kind, but _maybe_ — he has hope. 

“What’re you doing?” Nick asks, right next to him. 

Liam jumps, and nearly throws his coffee cup. “Uh!” he says. “Was just. Um. Standing.”

Nick raises an eyebrow but ignores it. “Hey, is my boyfriend in there, d’you know?”

Liam nods, heading back to his desk as quickly as he can.

 _Boyfriend_ , he realizes as he sits down, and makes a mental note to tell Harry congrats as soon as he sees him. 

*

“Liam!” Tina hisses. 

He looks up, baffled. 

She’s at the door, looking around furtively. “Come here!” 

He follows her out and down the stairs. She leads him to the warehouse, biting her lip and looking around a corner. Two of the Summer Boys are there, giggling. The one with the tall hair’s got the dark-haired one — Caleb? Liam thinks? — pushed up against the wall. 

“I don’t know if I can stop them,” she whispers. “It’s possible neither of them actually work here.” She frowns, leaning over so she’s hidden again. “What do I do?”

“Um.” He frowns. “Ask Nick?”

She shakes her head. “He thinks all four of them should hook up, would give the one with the stupid hair another lecture on it.”

“I don’t think you should stop them?” He offers. “I mean.” 

A giggle floats over to them.

“Yep,” she says, at the same time as he says, “Let’s go back up.”

Liam hears a shout of “Calum!” on his way up, and he winces, speeds up. 

Tina makes a face at him. “Downstairs?” she says. “Really?” 

He shrugs. “Some people are into it. Like Harry and Nick, most likely.”

“Ugh,” she groans. “Don’t remind me. I barely got the stains out of my chair last time.”

He raises his eyebrows at her. 

“Apparently,” she says, and in a clear imitation of Harry, says, “it’s the most comfortable chair in the office.” She shudders. 

Liam frowns. “I spent _so_ much time at Ikea and that’s what it gets used for?” He shakes his head, walking into the office. 

Louis gives him a look, pouting a bit. 

Liam frowns. 

Louis shakes shakes his head, picking up his phone and dialing something. 

*

He starts practicing his piano skills again, taking out his writing notebook. He works on old songs and after a while he has a few that could sound good, he thinks. 

Liam’s nearly vibrating with energy when he gets into work the next Friday morning. “I’ve got an announcement!” He calls to the group. He waits until Niall looks up from where he’s perched on Louis’ desk before continuing. “Um. Tonight, I’ve got this open mic kind of thing, at eight and you all should… come. I mean, it won’t be — like. I’m just playing some original songs and it’d be cool of you.” He looks at Louis, almost without meaning to, a little pleading.

Louis smiles wide, nodding, looking up at Niall. “Yeah?” he murmurs.

Niall nods, fist bumping him. “We’ll be there, mate.” 

“Good.” He smiles, small, and goes back to his desk. When he gets his next call, he can’t keep the cheer out of his voice as he says, “One Direction Maps, this is Liam!”

(By the end of it, after the customer’s yelled at him, his good mood is lessened but by no means gone. 

Louis is gonna come watch him play, he thinks with a little bit of pride.) 

* 

He’s been at the pub for around an hour and he’s due to go on in fifteen minutes, listening to people and chatting with the bartender, when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

He turns around, expecting Louis, but it’s Nick and Harry, grinning wide. He tries not to be disappointed, and fails just a bit. 

Nick throws his arms around him. “It’s like I’m a parent, I’m so disgustingly proud of you. I get to hear your _songs_! Liam Payne,” he shouts, hugging him so tight Liam can barely breathe, “You’re my child and I’m so, so proud of you.”

Over his shoulder, Harry rolls his eyes and mouths _baby fever_.

Liam laughs, rubbing Nick’s back.

When he goes up, Nick and Harry are the only two paying attention to him. It stings, a little, but he plays, fingers easy on the guitar chords. They clap like mad, anyway. It’s the loudest audience he’s gotten since he was in school.

“This is, ah, Fireproof,” he murmurs into the mic as the notes of Better Than Words play. “S’my last song.”

Nick whistles, loud. Harry shushes him. 

Liam laughs, soft, and starts playing. He’s not thinking of Louis, but he’s not _not_ thinking of him.

When he finishes he can’t stop smiling. He’s almost shaking with it, had forgotten how much he loved performing. 

As soon as he’s off stage Nick’s throwing his arms around him. “You’re so good!” he says. “You should sing on the recording, ah — the recording answer thing.” He snaps his fingers at Harry.

“Answering machine,” Harry says, nodding.

Nick giggles and nods, kissing him. He turns back to Liam, smile going soft. “I’m so, so proud of you,” he murmurs.

Liam’s throat closes up and he throws his arms around Nick, hugging him tight. Louis isn’t here but Nick _is_ and that matters so, so much. 

Nick goes still and then hugs him back. After a minute, Harry gets in on it, giggling against Liam’s hair.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. His voice is thick, god.

“Anytime,” Harry whispers. “We love you, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nick murmurs.

Liam swallows and lets himself be held.

* 

“I’m so sorry,” Louis says when he gets in the next Monday. “I lost track of time, I completely forgot.”

Liam shrugs, barely looking at him. He’s not mad. He gets it, he’s a little old to be doing gigs. It just sucks, feels like Louis doesn’t care about him. He’s not nearly so sad as he was on Friday, though. “It’s fine,” he murmurs. “Haz and Nick came, they liked it.”

“Nick came?” Louis asks, frowning.

Liam shrugs. “Said he was proud of me. Nick’s my friend.” He doesn’t mean for it to be sharp, but Louis’ face gives away that it’s stung and it makes him feel both awful and satisfied.

“It was amazing,” Nick gushes, coming out of his office. “Liam’s _amazing_.” He gives Louis a significant look that Liam doesn’t know how to parse.

“I know,” Louis mutters, looking down at his feet. He walks away without another word.

Liam feels guilty, but he doesn’t know why. He rubs his eyes. 

“You _are_ ,” Nick insists, giving him another hug. 

*

“Conference room!” Nick shouts on a bitter, cold Tuesday morning. 

Liam frowns and finishes his call — another school upset with the world maps they’d received — before going into the conference room. Honestly, Liam’s not sure how anyone’s managed to keep their jobs when they keep sending out the wrong things. Niall’s sitting in Liam’s usual spot, talking animatedly to Zayn about superheroes while Louis listens, looking amused. 

He doesn’t let it bother him. Or — he tries. It makes sense that Niall’s taking over his spot, or whatever. It doesn’t mean anything.

He sits next to Perrie, who grins at him, giving him a hug. “I’ve been meaning to tell you,” she says, talking loud to be heard over Zayn. “I’m so sorry things didn’t work out with Soph. She not your type?”

He shrugs. “Not that. She’s lovely, really, just… I don’t think I’m looking for anything.” He half-smiles at her.

Perrie frowns, nodding. “Haven’t found the right person, then,” she murmurs. “I dunno if I can help you there, Soph’s the best person I know.”

Next to her, Zayn coughs delicately.

She rolls her eyes at Liam. “Other than this one, I suppose.”

“Thank you,” Zayn murmurs, grinning at her. 

Liam laughs, soft, and catches eyes with Louis, who’s looking at him — oddly. He frowns. “What —” he starts.

Louis shakes his head, sharp, and voluntarily turns to Nick for the first time Liam can remember. 

He wants to ask, but then Nick starts talking.

“So it’s cold as shit right now,” Nick starts. “Really freezing, and I’ve realised that I didn’t actually ever plan the day at the beach for you guys that I promised, like,” he waves a hand, “forever ago.”

Oh, god. 

Niall laughs, loud. “We get to go to the beach for a day?”

Nick nods, grinning at him. “Yes, Niall!” He turns to the rest of them. “So. Friday! Bring — well, don’t bring bathing suits. May want to bring an extra jumper, it’s supposed to be cold. Less cold than it will be, though.”

Liam catches eyes with Louis, who’s holding in a laugh. He snorts, turning his face to the side. 

“You know what,” Nick says, “I’m well done with the two of you and your nonsense.” He’s got his hands on his hips, glaring at the two of them. “You know, I’ve half a mind to uninvite you guys.”

Louis snickers. “Nah, you’d never do that.”

“Why not?” Nick asks. 

“Because you love Liam, Mr. ‘Amazing Voice and Writing Talent’,” Louis says, as though it should be obvious. “And Harry loves _me_.” 

Harry nods. “Sorry, Nick. He’s got to come.” Liam watches the two of them fistbump, not at all subtly. 

Nick waves a hand, shaking his head. “Fine. Whatever. But just — you guys, this is gonna be fun. Yeah? We can go and eat lots of food that our lovely Liam is gonna make for us and there’ll be a surprise!” 

No one reacts. 

“I mean a real surprise, you guys, not like last time,” he mumbles. “Promise.”

“All right,” Liam says. 

Nick’s shoulders slump forward. “Is anyone excited?” he asks, soft. 

“I am!” Harry says, grinning around at them. He gives Liam a pleading look.

Oh, Christ. Liam nods, grinning as well. “It’ll be really fun, Nick. Great for morale.”

He smiles, satisfied. “Remember, everyone. No work, just fun. Bring gloves!” he calls as they file out of the conference room. 

*

On Friday, it’s freezing. 

“Not snowing!” Nick insists when Liam points this out, rubbing his hands together. “And, look, the surprise is gonna be more than worth it, I promise. It’s still a day off,” he reminds them.

Jesy comes up to Liam, frowning. “What d’you think the odds are that he’s actually got anything planned?”

“I’m expecting ice cream sandwiches,” he murmurs.

Apparently not softly enough, because Nick glares at him on their way out. 

They go on a bus and Nick sits at the front, microphone in hand, scream-singing along to all the songs he puts on.

Liam jumps when Louis leans forward to whisper in his ear. “D’you know what the surprise is?” 

He shakes his head, trying to look like he’s not just had the shit scared out of him. “Nope,” he says. “Nick’s kept this one pretty well wrapped up.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs, looking around the bus to Harry. Liam jumps again when he nudges him. God, he’s got to be less obvious. “Think Harry would know?”

“Probably, but that’s not fair,” Liam murmurs.

“Listen. If I’m going to have to participate in some, like, calendar-making contest for Nick’s morale, I want to know,” he says.

Liam can’t argue with that. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten everyone in the office to strip; Finchy’s had to give seminars on several different occasions about ‘appropriate and inappropriate behaviour’. “All right,” he murmurs. 

While Nick’s crooning to Leigh-Anne, who looks entirely unimpressed (in the background, Perrie’s giggling like an idiot), they move up the bus. Louis pushes Harry over so he’s at the window, and Liam sits on the edge of the seat, trying his hardest not to touch Louis at all.

Louis leans back against him, which ends that pretty effectively. 

Harry glares at them. “What d’you want?” he asks, slow. “I don’t know the surprise, if that’s what you’re after.”

“Of course not!” Louis says, mouth dropping open. “Harold, I’m affronted you’d even think that.”

He gives the two of them a flat look. “My lips are sealed. Nick gave me some excellent incentives to not tell.” 

Liam closes his eyes, shaking his head. “Didn’t need to know that,” he murmurs.

“Just,” Louis starts. “Is it sexual? At all?”

Harry hums a bit. “It’s sexy, but no, I don’t think it’s really sexual.” 

Liam’s eyes go wide. “Sexy?” he manages. 

“Well, yeah, I mean, fire’s pretty sexy, innit?” His eyes go wide. “Damn it,” he whispers.

“ _Fire_?” Louis says, too-loud.

“Hey!” comes Nick’s voice over the music. “Harry! You promised not to tell! And after I promised we could try the grapefruit thing.”

“They made me!” Harry insists. 

“We would never,” Louis says.

“We were just asking him if he was excited about the very lovely display put on by our excellent and, if I do say so, handsome boss,” Liam adds, nodding. “Really.” 

Nick glares at them, and pointedly turns away.

*

The beach is, as Liam knew it was going to be, freezing. 

He stands with his arms around his middle, frowning. 

“Beach day!” Nick shouts, throwing his arms out. “Oh, come on, you guys. It’s fun! If you really want, you can sit and read all day.”

Louis groans, flopping down on the sand, flat on his back. Niall giggles and sits down as well, staring at him.

Once again, Liam feels like the worst person in the world for wanting Niall to stop trying to be his friend and just leave him alone. He starts to wonder just how much Louis has told Niall about them, about everything that had happened. If Niall knows anything at all, or it wasn’t important enough for Louis to tell. 

God, he’s got to get a grip on himself.

Nick glares. “At least I brought food for you lot,” he says, mumbling something about how ungrateful they all are. 

“Hungry’s more like it,” Niall calls. “Rather than ungrateful.” 

“Oh, are you hungry, Niall? You know, you could be at the London branch,” Nick snaps, hands on his hips. “Where would that leave you?”

“London,” he says, smiling.

Liam stifles a giggle into his arm. 

“No. Jobless. Probably homeless, because Louis would have left you for not having a job.” 

“I would never!” Louis protests, taking Niall’s hand. “We’d be out of a job together, babe.” 

“ _Thank_ you,” Niall says primly.

Nick glares at the both of them like he’s a child. “You’re both on probation,” he says. “Liam, mark them both down.”

Liam nods, sighing and marking it down in his notebook. 

Harry waves a hand and flops back, his wide-brimmed hat flipping down. 

“You’re gonna get sand all over,” Nick murmurs, soft enough that it’s clear he’s only talking to Harry but loud enough that everyone can hear clearly. “And then you’re gonna complain when you get sand in the bed.”

Harry waves a hand again. “Beach day, Nick. Nothing matters.” 

“Oh, god,” Nick says, shaking his head. 

*

When they’re through eating, Nick pulls out his megaphone. (Liam’s not sure where he got it, but he’s gonna have to ask Harry to hide it somewhere; they’ll have a day or so of quiet Nick until Harry inevitably gives in and tells him where it is, at least). He shouts at all of them to, “Get back to the meeting ground!” 

They do, Louis and Niall hand-in-hand and looking sufficiently rumpled. Liam looks away, swallowing hard. He’s not going to think about it, he reminds himself. 

“Now,” Nick says, looking at his watch, “in the twilight hour of — oh, god damn it, it’s only four in the afternoon. Regardless! Now that it’s dark-ish, I can finally show you guys —” Harry starts making a drumroll noise, “— the surprise!” 

He walks them over to the part of the beach he’s been yelling at them all not to go near lately, where — oh, shit. 

Harry wasn’t lying. Something is definitely on fire. 

“What’s that?” Louis asks, snorting in disbelief. 

“Two days off of work,” Nick says, grinning. 

It looks like — well, _is_ — a giant pile of rocks that seem to be on fire. 

“It’s a fire walk!” Nick says when it’s quiet for too long. He grins. “Come on, you guys. Is anyone brave enough to walk across it?”

“Are you?” Zayn asks him, tugging Perrie in close. 

Nick waves a hand. “That’s irrelevant. I can take days off anytime I want. Perks of being manager. But you,” he says. “You lot are my team. My crew. My family — well, my children, all except Harry. My boyfriend”

Harry grins at all of them, wide. 

“And I want you to be as brave as I know you can be,” he finishes, looking at each of them expectantly.

There’s a long pause of silence. Fiona’s the one to break it. 

“No way am I walking across fire for two days off that I’m not sure you’re allowed to give,” she says, rolling her eyes and turning to walk away. 

“Hey!” Nick says. “I wouldn’t make you guys burn the hell out of your feet unless I was absolutely sure I definitely had the right to give you days off.” 

Louis shakes his head, shivering a little. Niall tightens his arms around him. “Nope,” he says, and they turn to walk away, back to their chairs. 

Nick’s face falls. “Is anyone gonna try it?” he asks. 

“I will,” Liam says quietly.

Nobody seems to hear him or, if they do, they aren’t listening. Everyone mumbles something vaguely apologetic and wanders away, back toward the rest of their little campsite. 

In the end even Nick’s gone and left. None of them expect Liam to be the one to do it. 

“I’ll do it,’” he says again, though there’s no one around to hear. He _can_.

Liam stares at the fire. It’s really, really dumb, and Nick’s not even around. It’s not even about the days off, Nick’ll give them to him anyway. He looks back at the group; Louis says something, and everyone laughs, Niall burying his face in Louis’s chest. 

_You’ve got to be braver_ , he tells himself, stern. He’s sick of always scaring himself away from doing the things that matter. 

_If you were braver_ , he thinks as he takes off his shoes, _you’d have told Louis from the start how you felt_. He swallows and gears up, heart racing. 

If he can do this, he can do anything.

He walks up to the coals and freezes for a second, toes pressed into the sand. He shakes his head, taking a step back and shaking out his hands for something to do. 

He looks back at it. There’s a burst of laughter from the rest of the group and that’s what spurs him on, somehow. 

He doesn’t let himself think about it too hard, just runs across them as fast as he can. When he gets off the rocks he’s exhilarated, grinning. 

He doesn’t feel anything until he’s walking back to the group on the sand, wincing with every step. He’s never, ever felt more alive, though. Never felt better about himself. 

“Hey!” he says, going up to everyone. “Listen,” and his heart is pounding, eyes wide and voice louder than he usually gets. “I’ve got something to say to you. All of you.” 

The chatter dies down and everyone’s eyes are trained on him. 

“I did the fire walk,” he says to start, looking at all of them. “So — I don’t really care about the days off, that’s not why I did it. But, thanks, Nick. I’m looking forward to it.” He swallows hard, taking a deep breath. “No one else could do that. Not even you,” he says, and finally turns to the rest of the group. 

“None of you came to my gig,” he says. “None of you except Nick and Harry, and that was wonderful but you all promised. Not even you, Louis,” he says, turning to face him. God, his feet hurt; he’s shifting with every word, and he wants to stand in the water but he knows he’ll never say it if he doesn’t say it now. “You’re not even my friend anymore and that sucks because I called off my wedding for you and I didn’t tell you but I thought you knew. And I know you’re in a relationship.” 

He looks at Niall, who’s staring at him with a frown on his face. 

“And I’m sorry, I don’t want to change that,” he says. “I just miss you, Lou, and it’s not fair that we can’t even talk anymore.” He takes a deep breath. “There were a million reasons to break it off with her but I didn’t care about any of them until I met you.” He says it in a rush, pushing the words out. 

“Okay,” he says when no one says anything. “I’m going to go fix my feet, and then…” He shrugs. “Um. Yeah.” He jogs away, wincing again until he gets to the water. He sits down on the sand with his feet dangling, staring at the moon. 

“Hey,” Louis says, sitting down next to him. 

Liam doesn’t really look at him. He hums. 

“I’m sorry about your gig,” he murmurs. “It was shitty and I shouldn’t have done it.”

Liam shrugs. “You forgot.” It’s not about that, really, and he’s about to tell him that when he interrupts.

“No, I didn’t.”

Liam turns to him, frowning. “What?”

Louis looks a little panicked, eyes wide. “I didn’t forget, but I knew that I’d be going for a reason other than being your friend and I felt so, so bad about it.”

Liam’s heart is pounding more than it had been during his speech. “Another reason?” He asks. 

Louis looks at him, a little desperate. “Come on,” he murmurs. “You know. Don’t make me say it again if you’re not —” He cuts himself off, closing his eyes like he’s said something wrong. 

Fuck. He looks back out at the water, wrapping his arms under his knees. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t make it weird,” Louis says. “I’m still with Niall, I’m not leaving him for — anything. I love him, yeah?”

“I’m not making it weird,” he says back, not looking at him. _What if I said I was in love with you?_

Louis scoots closer to him. “I miss our friendship, too,” he murmurs. “Can we get back to that?”

 _Back to when you were in love with me and I was in a relationship?_ He nods, slow. “Yeah, we can. That’s what I was saying.”

Louis smiles at him, small. It’s better than he’s gotten in ages. “All right,” he murmurs. He wraps an arm around him, careful. “Let’s go back, yeah? You’re never living that outburst down. Just so you know.”

He rolls his eyes. “Mmm, I think it was worth it.” 

He chuckles, and they head back. Everyone’s a little quiet when they do. 

Liam sits down next to Perrie, giving her a pleading look. She launches into a story about how their dog was cold one night so she’d used one of Zayn’s socks to make him a sweater. “You’ve really got to come see him,” she says, “he’s adorable.”

“So’s the sweater,” Zayn says. “Even if it was my favorite sock.”

Liam laughs, relaxing a little. 

*

On the way back, Harry nudges him. 

“I miss our friendship,” he says, very seriously. 

Liam shoves him, but it weirdly does make him feel a little better.

He sits alone on the bus, listening to music and staring out the window. His feet are still killing him but he’d finally done it. 

Danielle was always telling him to stand up for himself, and now he is. 

*

Harry calls Liam up the next night, around seven. “Do you want to go out with Zayn and me tonight?” he asks. “We won’t be mean. Well, not that mean.” He grins. 

Liam rolls his eyes, but the alternative is sitting in his flat by himself, so — “Yeah,” he says. “What time? And where?” 

Harry gives him the address. “That’s the bar Lou goes to, isn’t it?” he asks quietly. 

“Yeah,” Harry says. “But he’s not coming, don’t worry.”

Liam sighs. “What time?”

“We’ll meet you there in an hour.” 

Liam hangs up and looks at his outfit. Good enough. 

He heads out fifteen minutes earlier than he needs to, because Harry’s terrible at directions (‘the third birdhouse’, he’d said, as though anyone but him counted birdhouses). He’s right to do it. He gets lost three times and ends up being late anyway.

Zayn and Harry are sat at a table near the back and Liam waves, making his way over. 

“I’ve missed you,” Harry teases, getting close and leaning his head on Liam’s shoulder. “Missed our _friendship_.”

Zayn kindly rolls his eyes at Liam instead of taking part. Liam kicks him gently under the table in thanks. 

“Do you want a drink?” Zayn asks, holding up his empty bottle. 

“Nah,” Liam murmurs, shaking his head. “I’m good. Just wanted to get out of my house for a bit.”

Zayn nods and raps twice on the table before he heads up to the counter. 

“Liam,” Harry says, just as his phone starts ringing. “Hang on.” He answers it without moving his head from Liam. “Louis?”

Liam tries not to be too terribly interested. It’s none of his business. But Harry’s phone is right next to his ear and he can hear the high, panicked sound of his voice. He’s saying Niall’s name a lot.

Before he can stop himself, he thinks, _I hope they’ve broken up_. He’s terrible.

Zayn gets back and tilts his head toward Liam, who just shrugs.

“Right,” Harry says, shutting his phone. “I hate to leave you like this, but Louis is in an emergency and needs me. I’ll have to go. Um. Sometime soon, yeah?” He barely looks at either of them as he walks out. He doesn’t have his jacket and it takes him until he gets halfway across the bar to realize it, doubling back and grabbing it with a salute.

Zayn frowns after him. “What’s that all about?”

“I… have no idea,” Liam says. 

“Do you think he and Niall —”

“Billiards?” Liam interrupts. “Do you want to play, I mean. Table’s open.” He tries for a smile.

“Sure,” Zayn says, picking up his beer and smiling at him. “I warn you, though, I’m mediocre at best.” 

*

“Morning,” Louis says on Monday. 

Liam waves, and Louis makes his way over to his desk, humming. He’s acting exactly the same. Liam’s not let down, really, but he’d let himself get his hopes up. Just a bit. 

It’s good though. He and Niall are happy together. He has to keep reminding himself of that.

*

“Can you, um, fax these for me?” Niall asks, soft. He hands a folder of papers to Liam. 

“Sure,” Liam says in as friendly a voice he can. He takes them and sends the first one off, smiling over at him. “How was your weekend?

“You know what,” Niall says, looking at Liam as though he’s grown another head, “Ill just do it myself. Thanks.” He takes the stack of papers out of Liam’s hand and walks away without another word, heading back to his desk in the other room.

Liam frowns. He glances over at Louis, looking for some sort of explanation.

Louis’ eyes widen a bit when Liam catches him watching them and he turns back to his desk, back straight, holding himself stiffly.

Liam tries very, very hard not to be hopeful, but—maybe, he thinks with a bit of relief. Maybe he’s got a shot. 

(He doesn’t ask about it because he wants to be sure, and he desperately doesn’t want them to get the timing wrong again. If he’s right—and it’s a huge _if_ —he can keep waiting. He’d wait for a long time for Louis.) 

*

Liam’s eating lunch in the break room, scrolling through Twitter. Nothing too interesting but a bunch of pictures of Andy and Daisie in their new house, and about a thousand pictures of Harry’s bananas. 

Louis comes in and gives him a small smile, going to the vending machine. “How’ve you been?” he asks. 

Liam bites his lip. “All right,” he finally settles on. “Glad I got everything off of my chest. You know.” He looks back down at his phone, suddenly feeling awkward. 

“Yeah,” Louis says. He sits down next to Liam, leg bouncing. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Yeah?” Liam asks. He sets down his phone, giving him an expectant look. _This isn’t anything_ , he tells himself sternly.

Louis looks down at his hands, and there’s a soft smile on his face. “Well,” he says. 

Niall comes in then, and visibly freezes when he sees the two of them. “Oh, sorry,” he says, and leaves as quickly as he’d come. 

Liam watches him go and turns to Louis, mouth open a bit. A little bit of hope moves into his chest. “Did you two…” He trails off. 

Louis is still staring at his hands. “Yes.” He nods, once. “Um. This weekend.” He looks at Liam. 

“I’m sorry,” Liam says quietly.

Louis shakes his head. “Don’t be. It needed to happen.” He opens and closes his mouth a few times, and finally shakes his head, getting up. 

“Louis?” Liam asks, soft and hurt. Louis won’t even look at him and he feels the hope dissipate a bit. maybe he waited too long. Maybe Louis isn’t interested anymore. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

“I’ll talk to you later,” Louis says, nodding. “Um. Got lots more work to do.” He nods toward the door and leaves quickly. 

Liam doesn’t even feel like finishing his lunch. He tosses it and rubs his hands over his face, groaning before he goes back to his desk.

*

Liam spends much of the next two days working on a project for Nick. He’s looking for a place to take Harry, and as they’re a map company he’s justified using company time to do it. 

He stays late into the evening, sending Nick link after link, all in emails titled with innocuous things like “Expense Reports 2012-2013”. Harry’s a terrible snoop, apparently, but not for boring things.

When it’s just the two of them left in the office and Liam’s thinking of going home, Louis comes over to his desk. “Liam?” he asks quietly.

“Hmm?” He looks up at him, setting aside the notebook he’s been writing interesting places down in. He tries not to look like he’s ogling Louis, and ends up staring just to the left of his ear. “What’s that?” 

Louis swallows. “Do you — um —” He fidgets a little, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I’m glad you’re not marrying Danielle,” he says instead of whatever he’d been trying for before. He’s not looking at him.

Liam nods, slow. “Me, too,” he murmurs. He doesn’t know where this is going, but if this is all some joke he’s going to cry, or hit Louis, or something else equally ridiculous. It’s not fair. 

“Did you really call it off for me?” Louis asks in a tiny voice. 

Liam closes his eyes. “Lou,” he murmurs. “Please.”

“Because Niall thinks so. He believed you, said it was obvious.” He fidgets again, grabbing a pen and clicking it a few times. “S’why we broke up, I think.”

Oh. Fuck. “I’m sorry,” Liam says, wincing. “Do you want me to talk to him? Explain, somehow?” He’ll do it, explain how he’s a lovesick idiot but Louis _loves_ Niall. 

Louis shakes his head, and finally looks up at him. “No, I don’t. I did all the explaining myself.” He walks around the desk and spins Liam’s chair to face him, resting his hands on the arms of Liam’s chair. 

“Explaining?” Liam asks quietly. He licks over his bottom lip, nervous.

Louis nods, staring at Liam’s mouth. “Less of an outburst than you, but much the same in the content.” He meets his eyes and shrugs, small. “Told him I was mad for you and that seemed to be enough to make him leave.”

Liam just stares up at him, breathing heavy. He’s spent the week making himself think that Louis could never—and now— “What?” he breathes.

Louis makes a pained noise and leans down further, balancing his hands on the desk on either side of Liam. He’s so, so close. He could count his eyelashes, probably. Their foreheads are touching. 

Liam kisses him. He goes for it right away, pulls Louis in by the small of his back and nipping at his lip. 

Louis makes a soft little gasping noise and kisses him back, hand going to the back of his head, pulling him in close. “Liam,” he breathes when he pulls away.

Liam nods, chasing his mouth, nose nudging his cheek. “Come here,” he whispers.

Louis nods and goes after a second, sitting on his lap, other hand going to grab Liam’s arm. He laughs softly when he falls, kissing him again.

Liam puts both arms around his back, pulling him in. The rolling chair goes back a bit and he jumps, nearly jostling Louis off of his lap.

Louis is smiling, staring at Liam. “We should go on a date,” he says, voice a little breathless. “You and me. Date.”

Liam nods, fast. “Anywhere. I’ll take you out,” he says. “Whatever you want.” _Niall?_ he doesn’t ask. He can find that out later. God. Later.

Hang on. “Niall?” he asks, breathless. If they’re gonna finally do this, it has to be right. 

Louis shakes his head. “He left last night,” he says quietly. “And you’re not a rebound,” he says, lacing their fingers together and kissing the back of Liam’s hand. “I just — you’re what I want, okay? I promise.” 

Liam nods, slow. “Let me take you out,” he whispers again. He doesn’t know what to say — _I love you_ — but he needs Louis. 

Louis laughs, bright and happy. He kisses Liam again, hand still on his cheek. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I know a place, come on.” He grabs Liam’s hand.

“Tonight?” he asks, rubbing over his face. He looks down at what he’s wearing.

“Liam,” he murmurs, very seriously. He tilts Liam’s chin up for another kiss. “You look amazing and I’m not waiting another day just so you can try to impress me. I’m easy, yeah?”

Liam nods, kissing him again, nipping at his lower lip. “I’m easy, too,” he whispers. He watches as Louis visibly tries to calm himself down. God. He smiles into another kiss. “Let’s go,” he says. 

Louis takes his hand and walks him downstairs, smiling wide the whole way. He opens Liam’s car door for him, kissing his cheek. 

Liam laughs, bright. “Such a gentleman,” he teases. 

“Sometimes,” Louis says, winking at him absurdly and getting into the passenger seat. 

Liam starts to drive, humming. 

“So,” Louis says, hand on Liam’s knee. He purses his lips. “Were you going to ask me out? Or just wait for me to do it?”

“Well,” Liam says, taking a quick glance at him, “I was going to wait until you were broken up with Niall, at the very least.” 

Louis sighs, almost imperceptible. 

“Hey,” Liam says. “If you want to wait, take some time to get over it — or not get over it, whatever you need —”

“No,” Louis says. He keeps his eyes looking out the window and his voice soft. “I told you, I’m not waiting anymore.” 

“Okay,” Liam says, heart racing. “I’m glad.” 

Louis grins, finally. “Me, too,” he says. “Been waiting ages for a date with you.” 

Liam snorts. “I’m not very good at first dates, so I hope you like disappointment,” he says as they pull into the lot. 

Louis shakes his head as he gets out. “I don’t think I’ll be disappointed,” he says, small smile playing at the edge of his mouth. 

They walk inside and are seated. Liam pulls out Louis’ chair for him, because he can be a gentleman too, thanks very much. 

Louis giggles. “Thank you,” he says. 

The waitress brings them glasses of water and Louis stares at his for a long while before he says anything. “I’m not going home with you tonight,” he finally settles on.

Liam raises an eyebrow. Louis is acting so _serious_ about it. “I didn’t expect you to,” he admits.

Louis nods. “”Good,” he says. “We’re going slow, yeah? Starting over?” 

Liam nods. He takes his hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “I’m not in this for the, like, sex. Or anything. I just want to be with you.”

Louis swallows visibly, staring at his neck. “You’re making it awfully difficult to keep my word,” he murmurs. “Damn it, Liam.”

He laughs. “I promise. Not trying anything. Just taking a wonderful guy on a date.”

Louis’ smile goes soft. “I was the one to ask you out, though.”

He shrugs. “And I’m the one paying. It’s the least I can do.”

Louis quirks a smile at him, finally lacing their fingers together and squeezing back. 

They order, and Liam can’t stop staring at Louis. 

“Did you get dressed up today?” he asks quietly. 

Louis bites his lip. “Might’ve done,” he says, tugging at his collar. 

“You look nice,” Liam says. He takes a steadying breath. “Next time, I will, too.” 

Louis laughs. “You think you’re gonna get a second date?” he teases. 

Liam shrugs. “I hope so, at least,” he says quietly. 

Louis kicks him under the table. “Good,” he murmurs. “You will.” 

*

After, Liam walks Louis out, arm linked through his. He kisses his cheek just before they get in. “Want me to drive you back to the office?” 

“Actually,” Louis says, careful, “will you drive me back to mine? I can pick up my car from the office tomorrow, take a cab or something there. I don’t mind.”

Liam frowns. “You sure?”

He nods. “Yeah. Please.”

“Okay,” Liam says, kissing his knuckles. He starts driving

When they’re sat at a red light Liam reaches over, without thinking about it, and takes Louis’ hand, squeezing tight, because he’s allowed to now and he’s taking advantage of it as much as he can.

Louis smiles, looking over at him. “I had a nice time,” he murmurs.

“So did I.” Liam chances a look over at him. “Does that mean I get another date?”

“You know I’ve been gone for you since I met you,” Louis murmurs, leaning his head back. The streetlights keep playing across his face, and Liam just — he wants so _much_.

“Thought we were taking it slow,” Liam says, smile going soft. 

“This is slow,” Louis murmurs. He looks out the window. “Slower than I want, at least.” 

They pull up to his flat and Liam idles for a minute, steeling himself to say it. 

“Okay,” he says, finally looking over at him. “I know you want to take it slow. And I know that we’re throwing everything from before out, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you kissing me for months. I’m so, so fucking in love with you.” He can still hear it, the way Louis had said it all those months ago, as he’s saying it.

Louis stares at him and Liam doesn’t give him a chance to argue. 

“I want everything with you,” he says, because he’s kind of an idiot. “And I know that was partly what you and Niall were fighting about, that he wanted serious and you didn’t — but I want it. All of it. Please, Louis.” He looks down, trembling a little. 

Louis doesn’t answer him. 

When the silence has gotten unbearably long, Liam says, “Say something?” 

“Liam, look at me,” Louis whispers in an almost unrecognizable voice. 

Liam does. 

His eyes are wide, mouth open a little. “Say it again,” he says. 

“Which part?”

“Yes,” he says immediately. “All of it. I don’t know. Everything. Fuck, I love you.” He moves forward so quickly Liam barely has time to process it before Louis is on him, hands in his hair, kissing him again. 

“I love you,” Liam says. “I want it, everything, I’m so fucking in love with you.” 

Louis whimpers and kisses him again, hands on his waist, moving up under his shirt. 

One of Liam’s hands hits the horn and they both jump, laughing. 

“Come up to mine,” Louis says.

Liam can’t hold in the small breath at that. “But you wanted to, like, take it slow.”

He shakes his head. “Changed my mind. I’m a fickle man and I want to suck you off. Please, Liam.”

He shivers hard, staring at Louis. “Fuck. You really want to?” 

He nods, slow, like Liam’s an idiot, and licks his lips. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Been waiting forever, don’t make me wait anymore. It’s cruel.”

He turns his car off and they go inside. Liam grabs Louis’ hand, and he can feel where he’s shaking. He almost drops his keys a few times trying to let them in, biting his lip. 

Liam swallows hard, grabbing the keys and letting the two of them into the flat. “Want me to make coffee?” He murmurs, suddenly nervous.

“Jesus — _no_ ,” Louis says, putting his hand on Liam’s waist and tugging forward. “Come on, please,” he whispers, just this side of desperate. He backs them up so he’s up against the wall, Liam pushing into him. “Please,” he whispers again, staring up at him.

Liam tangles a hand in the back of his hair and kisses him, slow.

Louis lets out a little whimpering moan and squeezes Liam’s hip, nodding and kissing him back. “Come on,” he murmurs. “Want you, please, kiss me properly.”

Liam’s never, ever had someone this desperate to be kissed before. It’s intoxicating. He sighs and kisses Louis again, harder, moaning a little when Louis nips at his lower lip. “Fuck,” he murmurs, hips rocking forward lazily. He’s half-hard in his jeans and so is Louis. God, that’s heady. He presses more insistently against him, shivering with the effort to not just pull off his clothes and get his mouth on him right there.

Louis tilts his head back and Liam takes the hint, scrapes his teeth over his neck. Louis sucks in a high, panting breath, eyes shut tight and hand gripping the back of Liam’s hair. He does it again, harder, sucking sharp. He’s going to leave a bruise and the thought’s so blindingly hot he moans. 

Louis tugs him up and kisses him again, finally snapping into the Louis that Liam knows, hands gripping his hair and keeping him close. “Want you so much,” he breathes between kisses, moaning when Liam gets a hand on him, palming him through his trousers. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Just like that, come on, bed,” he babbles.

Liam nods, tugging him back by the hand toward Louis’ room. Louis laughs, shaky, and pulls him in, falling back on the bed and tugging Liam down after him. 

Liam stumbles and falls on top of Louis. He huffs out a breath, head dropping forward. “I’m generally smoother,” he says, laughing.

Louis giggles. “If you say so. Or am I just gonna have sex where I get hurt all the time?”

Liam’s almost definitely bright red. “Stop,” he says, laughing, and moves himself so he’s braced over Louis. He kisses him, nice and slow. 

Louis hums, running his hand down Liam’s back, up under his shirt. “God,” he mumbles. 

Liam nods, kissing him again, harder than before. He’s shaking, almost, so hard it feels like he’s going to die if he doesn’t come. 

Louis frowns up at him. “D’you want to?” he asks, voice rough. “We don’t — I mean, I’m obviously —” He waves a hand at himself. When Liam looks down, he can see how Louis is hard in his trousers, hips rocking up unconsciously.

It’s enough to get him out of his head and he makes a small sound, kissing him again, hand at the back of his neck. He lets his hips rock down against him, moaning with each little thrust. 

Louis gasps, tilting his head back. “ _Liam_ ,” he gets out, voice breathy, high. “Liam, jesus.”

It’s like a switch has been flipped; he just wants Louis, all of him, can’t think about anything else. He pulls back so he can get Louis’ shirt off, tugging his own off in the process. 

Louis stares at him, hands on his waist, running up his stomach. “You’re so fit,” he whispers.

Liam shivers, grinding his hips down against Louis’ again in a rhythm. “So are you,” he murmurs. “God, look at you.” He stares at the tattoos. He’s seen them all before, more or less, but this — this is new, this is different, this is Louis open and showing him. He wants to memorise all the little marks of ink until he knows Louis as well as he knows himself.

God — god, it’s terrifying, wanting like this. He never wants to stop. 

He brushes his hand over Louis’ dick, testing, teasing. Louis whimpers, nodding fast. He’s entirely pliant under Liam, mouth open, legs spread as wide as they’ll go in the trousers (which isn’t very far; god, they’re tight, don’t hide anything). 

He pauses when he can’t get the zip down, grumbling. “You do it,” he breathes, rolling onto his back. He shoves his own down, wiggling in a very undignified manner. It doesn’t matter, though, because Louis has stood up, turned away, and Liam can watch as he takes his trousers off, bending over and — fuck. _Fuck_. 

Louis nearly tackles him on the bed when he turns back around, hands on Liam’s waist. “Been thinking about this for years,” he mumbles against his mouth. “God. You — your hands, your mouth, fuck. Want it all.”

Liam tries to slow the kiss, can feel the way Louis is jerking against him, almost desperate. “Hey, hey,” he whispers. “We’ve got time. Can do everything we want. It’s okay.”

Louis is still shaking, balanced with one arm on either side of him. “I just want — I want you,” he sighs.

Liam nods. “I want you, too.” He gets a hand on Louis’ hip, rubbing soothing circles. “Can I suck you off?” he whispers. “Is that okay?”

Louis nods, shaky, and goes to lie on his back. 

Liam tugs his pants off, letting out a little moan at the sight of Louis’ dick. Finally. He kisses Louis’ hips, each in turn, but he can’t tease anymore; Louis isn’t the only one who’s been thinking about it. 

He keeps eye contact with Louis as he wraps his lips around his cock and sinks down. 

Louis moans, loud, eyes shutting tight, fists clenched in the sheets. “Liam,” he manages to get out, voice already sounding broken. “Liam, fuck.”

Liam keeps looking up at him, wrapping his hand around what he can’t get to. It’s not long at all — really, only a couple of minutes — and Louis is pushing at him, desperately moaning, “ _Close_ , fuck —” before he comes, hard. 

Liam swallows it down, eyes fluttering shut at the taste. He sits up, staring at Louis, mouth open. 

“Shut up,” he whispers, face bright red, chest heaving. “I was thinking about it — all day, really —” He’s panting between words. He runs a hand over his face. “I promise, that’s the fastest I’ll ever come.”

Liam kisses him, can’t not, too hard and desperate to think about it. He grinds his hips down against the bed until Louis gets a hand around him in his boxers, stroking him quickly, rougher and dryer than Liam likes. It doesn’t matter, though, he’s too far gone to care about technique, and when Louis bites his neck he comes with a whimper, spilling all over Louis’ hand. 

He collapses on top of him, heart racing. “We’re even,” he mumbles. “This was a free round. After this we can start worrying about stamina, yeah?”

Louis nods, still panting himself. “Yeah,” he gets out, shoving at Liam until they’re both comfortable, neither being squashed. He wipes his hand off with a tissue and tosses it to the floor. Liam would make him pick it up (it’s the principle of the thing) but he’s already half-asleep. 

“Love you,” Louis mumbles, and Liam barely has time to say it back before he falls asleep, sticky and mostly naked.

*

He wakes up to Louis nipping his neck. 

He shifts, clutching the pillow tighter. “Hmm?”

“Wake up,” Louis whispers. “Wake up because I’m cold and you stole the blanket.”

“Mmm,” he says, cuddling the pillow harder. “Shh, Liam’s sleeping.” He yawns, big enough his jaw cracks. 

“Wake uuuup,” Louis insists. 

Because Liam is a sap and he apparently loves Louis to a fault, he opens his eyes and looks over at him. 

Louis smiles, soft, where he’s leaning back against the sheets. “You should go grab us a new duvet,” he murmurs. “In the linen closet. Thanks,” he says, laughing a little. 

Liam shakes his head, rolling over to press a kiss to Louis’ chest. “Sorry, no,” he murmurs. “Sleeping Liam, remember?”

Louis gasps. “I’m offended, Liam. We’ve only just begun dating and you’re already refusing to help me in even the most minimal ways. I —”

Liam nips at his chest to shut him up, right over where he’d left a particularly nice love bite earlier. He smiles at it, slow and sleepy. “Will you shut up and let me sleep if I go grab you the duvet?”

“Yes,” Louis says. “If you also make me tea.”

“I’m not making you tea.”

“After all this time I’ve spent pining, you —”

Liam puts a hand over his mouth. “Shhh,” he mumbles. Louis licks his hand and he takes it away, wiping it on the blankets. “Anyway, thought we weren’t dating.”

Louis goes still. “Sorry?”

Liam doesn’t quite know how to explain. “You said we weren’t going to date for a while. Slow, and stuff.” He yawns, big. “I mean, let me know when that changes. I’d love to show you off as my boyfriend, or whatever. Everyone’d be jealous.” He wrinkles his nose. “’m talking about Nick, and stuff, not — you know.”

“Right,” Louis says, faint. “Boyfriend?” 

Liam blinks, mind finally catching up to what he’s been saying. “Um,” he starts. “Let me go get you that blanket. And tea? Anything else? Please don’t kick me out.”

Louis shakes his head. “Just the blanket, please, that’ll be fine.” His voice is still faint.

Liam swallows and wants to pull on a pair of pants, feeling weird and exposed. He knows Louis _used_ to be in love with him, but maybe that’s changed, maybe this is all just — casual, like. Probably not, to be fair. He did invite him up after the whole _I love you_ thing. Still, though. (He’s pretty sure he half-remembers Louis saying it after the sex, too, before he’d fallen asleep, but his mind is hazy at best right now.)

He grabs the blanket and brings it back in. Louis is sitting up in the bed, staring at him. “You want to date me?” He asks.

Liam nods, lying down next to him, grabbing his hand and tracing patterns on his palm. “I love you,” he says again. “I meant it. I’m not just fucking with you.”

“Oh,” Louis murmurs. He rolls over on top of Liam, half-squishing him in the process. “I haven’t stopped,” he whispers against Liam’s neck. “I never fell out of love with you.”

Liam looks at him, hand on his cheek. “Yeah?” he whispers. His heart’s racing.

Louis nods. “Not for a second, honestly. Which is shit, I know, but. I couldn’t help it.” He smiles, soft.

“You dick,” Liam says with no heat behind it, grinning. “You said you wanted to take it slow. Nearly gave me a heart attack, honestly. Thought I’d have to keep all my love confessions in.”

He grins, wide and happy, fringe falling in his eyes. “Wanted you to say it,” he says with a shrug. “Figured it was me putting myself on the line before, now it was your turn. And hey!” He adds, frowning. “I sat there for years while you were engaged, this was nothing compared to that.”

He laughs, soft. “Yeah, I suppose,” he murmurs, tracing his thumb over his cheek. “Sorry,” he adds, because it feels like he should say it. “Not for being engaged, but for not stopping it when I realised I was in love with you.”

“When was that?” Louis asks, biting his lip.

Liam laughs, shaking his head. “A while ago. A year and a half, at least.” He shrugs. “I was just — being a dick. To her and to you.”

There’s a little crease between Louis’ eyebrows. “That long?” he whispers.

“Well, what about _you_?” Liam asks, rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on his arm. “Can’t have been that much shorter, thought you were going to cry when you told me.” He says it gently, not mocking at all.

“No, I knew from, like, week two of knowing you,” he says, waving a hand. “I just didn’t think you did. Not until the Christmas party.”

Liam frowns. “What — oh.” His eyes widen at the hazy memory. “That note?”

Louis nods. “I might’ve written a bit of a confession,” he says, covering his face with his hands. “I’m glad I didn’t give it to you! You would’ve shot me down even earlier and then we’d never had got to this point.”

Liam shakes his head. “We’d have got here eventually,” he says.

Louis nods, smiling at Liam like he’s the only thing that matters. “It’s always been a sure thing when it comes to you,” he says, and it’s horribly cheesy but Liam’s heart still races.

Liam laughs, kissing his neck. “Now that we’ve had all the gross feelings talk, can we go back to sleep? ‘M knackered.”

“If you promise to fuck me in the morning,” Louis says in a singsong.

“We have work,” he mumbles.

“Are you offering to fuck me _at_ work?”

He looks up at him, expression as flat as he can make it. “Not at all. We’re not ever hooking up there.”

He pats his shoulder. “Challenge accepted.”

He laughs, muffling it against Louis’ chest.

“Suppose you’re right,” Louis says after a moment. “Nick and Harry might get mad at us for stealing their love nest.”

Liam wrinkles his nose and reaches up to cover Louis’ mouth with his hand. “Sleep,” he says in as menacing a voice he can manage.

Louis giggles, kissing the top of Liam’s head when he tugs away his hand. “Fine,” he says. “Sleep well, babe.”

Liam hums, falling asleep quickly, breathing matching Louis’. 

*

Liam wakes up in a bit of a panic. It’s been ages since he’s woken up with anyone, much less someone that decidedly doesn’t smell like lavender and have long curly hair. It only takes a second for him to remember, though, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to Louis’ chest. “Morning, love,” he murmurs. 

Louis shifts, shaking his head. “G’back to sleep,” he murmurs.

“We’ve got to get to work,” Liam says. On any normal day he’d be worried about going into the office in the same clothes he’d worn the night before, but any smug comments he gets from Nick are going to be worth it for this, the sight of Louis blinking at him, smiling wide.

“I say we skip it,” Louis murmurs, voice rough. He shifts so they’re facing one another, biting his lip and rubbing circles on Liam’s hip. “Could take you out for a nice breakfast, go somewhere nice.”

Liam pouts, kissing him. “Don’t tempt me,” he mumbles. “I’ve never skipped work unless I was horribly sick.”

“All the more reason,” he says in a sing-song.

Liam shakes his head. “Friday, you can spend the night at mine and we can do all that,” he promises.

Louis’ eyes go wide. “You think? Really?”

He nods. “I don’t want to take it slow,” he admits. “I know you said — but then, well.” He shrugs, a little self-deprecating. “We don’t have to move in together, or anything —”

“Hang on,” Louis says, sitting up properly and bunching the duvet in his lap. “Are you telling me that you’re not going to move in with me because you think that’s what I want?”

Liam nods, not really looking at him. “Well, yeah.”

“You’re an idiot,” he says matter-of-factly. “Which is a thing we already knew, of course, but I think you need reminding. I’ve been gone for you since the beginning, love.” He kisses him, gentle and careful.

He smiles, going red. “Yeah?”

Louis nods. “Now,” he says, looking at the clock. “You won’t skip work to shag me, but how do you feel about being roughly, oh, forty-five minutes late?” He waggles his eyebrows.

Liam is in love with an absolute idiot. Desperately, madly, horribly in love.

He grins and nods, kissing him and moves so he’s straddling him. “I think I could do that,” he murmurs, sliding a hand into Louis’ hair as his other wraps around his dick.

* 

Nick whistles when they get into the office, thirty-seven minutes late. Liam turns bright red, but before he can slink away to his desk Louis has got his arm around him, kissing him sloppy and messy in front of everyone.

“I got him!” He says, laughing into Liam’s mouth.

Liam shakes his head, still blushing. He looks up in time to see Niall, who’s holding a mug of coffee too tight. “Tone it down,” he murmurs to Louis.

“What?” Louis whips his head around and nods, face falling. “Right. Forgot about that.” He clears his throat, smoothing down his shirt. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me,” he says, and makes his way to the back of the office, hand resting on Niall’s back.

Liam should maybe be jealous, he thinks idly. Lots of people would. He just shrugs, though, going back to his desk. He feels bad for Niall; he’s never been in this position before. He hopes they can work it out or that, at least, Niall isn’t too badly hurt.

He gets to work. Perrie comes up to his desk, after about twenty minutes. “So you and Louis?” She asks, raising an eyebrow. “No wonder it didn’t work out with Soph.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Sorry about that, by the way. I just — you know.” He gives her a little self-deprecating shrug.

She nods at him, leaning on her arms over the desk. “I’m glad you guys worked it out,” she says honestly. “Feel bad for Niall, though.”

“So do I.” He sighs, closing his eyes. “Feel like a dick.”

“You’re not.”

“You think?”

She shrugs. “If you are, it’s not that bad. No one cheated, everyone was honest about their feelings. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, tilting his head. “When you put it like that — yeah.” 

“Minus him kissing you in front of everyone.”

“I think that was to scar Nick. Revenge for hinting that he and Harry fucked on Louis’ desk,” Liam says with a shrug.

She snorts. “Of course they have. They’ve fucked everywhere, Li.”

He slowly lifts up his arms off of his desk. “All right. Good to know. I’m gonna go disinfect my entire body,” he says, nodding at her.

She giggles, and rests her chin in her hand, wiggling her fingers. A gleam catches his eye and his mouth drops open. “Holy shit,” he murmurs.

She nods, laughing brightly. “I knew you’d see it eventually,” she says, holding out her hand. “It’s gorgeous, he asked me last night and I didn’t mean to take away from your guys’ debut or whatever this is, but — look at it!” She’s positively squealing, she’s so happy.

He walks around his desk so he can hug her properly, arms tight around her. “I’m so happy for you,” he whispers, kissing the side of her head. “Am I invited to the wedding?”

She nods, grinning wide. There are tears in her eyes. “Yes, absolutely, I’d be horrified if you didn’t show up. Everyone is,” she whispers.

They’re attracting some stares from the other people in the office. “Are you going to tell them?” Liam asks. “Or am I just gonna look like an idiot, up here hugging you?”

Louis walks out of the kitchen, frowning. He catches Liam’s eye and suddenly smiles like he can’t help himself, like Liam’s the only thing that matters.

Liam’s hit, then, with just how much, how incredibly desperately he loves him. He smiles, wide, and eyes Perrie’s hand, looking back at Louis with a grin.

“You’re _engaged_!” Louis shouts, and claps a hand over his mouth.

“That’s one way to do it,” Liam says, laughing. Perrie shoves at him but nods. The entire office gets up to coo over her ring, all shouting over one another about how beautiful it is and how excited they are.

Louis wraps his arms around Liam’s waist, chin on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about that,” he murmurs. “Nothing happened, we just talked.”

Liam frowns, resting his hand on top of Louis’. “I know that. Everything okay, with him?”

“He’s annoyed, more than anything else. Said he knew we weren’t going to get married, but that I didn’t have to show it off like that. I think he thought I was trying to, like, show him directly?” Louis wrinkles his nose, kissing Liam’s shoulder quickly. “I told him it wasn’t that, and he seemed less annoyed. I didn’t mean to hurt him,” he murmurs.

“I know,” he says again, turning so he can catch his lips in a kiss. He’s maybe a bit of a dick. “You’re not that cruel.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re always trying so hard to make me into a good guy. I’m just looking out for my own interests,” he says, a little joking.

Liam smiles, unable to stop himself. “Sure you are,” he murmurs.

“Come back to mine again tonight?” Louis asks. “I know it’s a work night, but we can stop at yours first so you can get some clothes?”

 _Move in with me_ , Liam thinks as loudly as he can. His heart races as he nods. “I’d like that,” he whispers.

Louis’ grin is blinding. “Good,” he says back, laughing as he kisses Liam again.

“Enough of that,” Nick barks, separating the two of them. “There’s a strict no-PDA policy in this office, I’m afraid.”

Liam gives him a look where Harry’s literally hanging off of him. “Right.”

“This is different,” Harry mumbles, arms around him. “I’m a fragile person. I need attention to live. Just like Tinkerbell,” he adds helpfully.

Nick turns to look at him, bemused. “Tinkerbell?”

He nods. “From Peter Pan?. And Louis is Peter. Right, Lou?”

Louis goes bright red, hiding his face in Liam’s shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, muffled.

“Oh, come off it!” Harry insists. “You said that you identified with him because he was terrified to get older and so were you, and then you said some very explicit things that I won’t repeat because of present company, so you should all thank me,” Harry murmurs.

Liam shifts so he can wrap an arm around him. “I think it’s cute,” he murmurs. “I’d like to see you in a Peter Pan costume.” It’s meant to come out innocent, really it is, but Louis giggles, high-pitched, still hiding his face. “Shut up,” Liam says as delicately as he can manage.

Louis shakes his head, pulling back. “Gonna start calling you Wendy, make you grow your hair out and wear a pretty blue dress.”

Liam frowns. “You’re talking about the Disney version, aren’t you?”

“Might be. I’ve got sisters!” he defends.

“Sorry, just _when_ did you move out of your mum’s? Or was the place I slept last night hers? If that’s the case I think I owe her, like, a thousand apologies,” Liam says as they walk back to his desk, the crowd around Perrie subsiding.

She’s walking toward Zayn, apologizing over and over. He picks her up, grinning, and sets her on his desk so he can kiss her. “I love you,” Liam hears him murmur.

Louis is watching them, too. “Think we should go together,” he decides, looking over at him with fire in his eyes. “It only makes sense. We’re both going to go anyway and I won’t know anyone else, and this way we’ll save gas in going there.”

Liam bites his lip, looking at him. “Perrie wants a long engagement,” he says. “She used to tell me how jealous she was. Could be more than a year. Think we’ll make it that far?”

Louis quirks a smile, kissing Liam’s forehead. “I’m pretty positive that we will,” he whispers.

Liam grins wide enough that it hurts. God, he’s so fucking happy.

* 

“I’ve not been inside your flat before,” Louis says later that night, looking around. “It’s very nice. Very Liam.”

“What does Liam look like?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Dunno. Just — orderly. Kind of boring, if it were anyone else, but it’s really endearing when it’s you.”

Liam grins, kissing his cheek as he walks by to get to his bedroom. “You’re just saying that because you want to get laid tonight.”

“That’s true, but I don’t think I really have to worry all that much,” Louis says smugly. “Think I’d like you to fuck me, tonight,” he calls down the hallway. “Since you wouldn’t this morning.” 

Christ. Liam’s gonna die before they even get back to Louis’s flat. “Come here,” he calls instead, heart racing. He tosses the last of his things off of his bed, into his suitcase that he’s taking to Louis’s. He has a feeling he’ll be spending a good few days there, and he wants to be prepared.

“Yeah?” Louis says, smirking as he comes in.

Liam grabs him round the waist and pulls him in, kissing him hard. He backs up until his legs hit the bed and sits down, spreading his knees so Louis can step between them.

“Liam,” Louis breathes, hands on his shoulders. He’s staring down at him, mouth open. “God, you’re so — so good,” he whispers, nonsensical, as he kisses him again.

Liam moans into it, voice breathy, leaning back until Louis gets the hint and follows him. He gets Louis’ shirt unbuttoned in record time, pushing it off his shoulders as best he can.

“We’ve got dinner plans,” Louis says, voice catching when Liam pinches one of his nipples. “And — fuck — thought we were going back to mine.” He shivers, dropping his head back. 

“We’ve not shagged in this bed, though,” Liam murmurs, leaning up so he can kiss his neck, careful. “We’ve got to keep it even. I prefer equal-opportunity relationships, if I’m being honest.”

“Right,” Louis breathes, nodding. He gets his own hands on Liam’s shirt, pulling it up and over his head instead of unbuttoning it. “Right, I’m okay with that.”

“I’m glad you’re so giving,” Liam says on a moan when Louis runs his nails down his chest, light. “Thank you, for that, really.” 

Louis smiles. “I try,” he murmurs. “I’ve been learning from you.”

It’s such a delightfully cheesy, sincere thing that Liam laughs, hands on Louis’ hips. “Come here,” he murmurs, kissing him again, gentler than before.

“No,” Louis says petulantly, but he kisses him back. “Come on, want you to fuck me.”

“ _Dinner_.”

“You’re sending me mixed signals, Payne. Getting me all excited and then just leaving me high and dry?” he teases. 

“Nah, still fuck you later. Now, just want to suck you off a bit,” he says, flipping them easily. 

“You’re too strong,” Louis grumbles, breathless. 

Liam laughs and, when he comes, Louis tangles his fingers in his hair and tugs, hard, which is enough to get Liam off as well. 

“Fuck,” Louis whispers, staring at where there’s a wet patch showing through his trousers. “Okay, gonna pull your hair a lot more.” 

Liam kisses him, whimpering into it. 

*

“Can I ask you an odd question?” Louis asks, after they’ve ordered but before they’ve poured their wine.

Liam frowns but nods, taking a sip of water. “Sure.”

He looks down. “I don’t want you to think I’m being weird,” he murmurs. “Just genuinely curious, okay?”

Liam nods, slow. “Yeah, Lou. Anything.”

“When did you move in with Danielle?” he asks in a rush.

Liam blinks at him.

“I told you it was odd,” he reminds him. “And you don’t have to answer. I’m not going to judge, or anything, I’m just genuinely curious.”

He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Fuck,” he murmurs. “I don’t know. It was back when we were at uni, to be sure. Not explicitly, but we were always over at each other’s. Didn’t move in properly until we were engaged.” 

Louis frowns. “Why?” 

“She didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “Wanted it to be official.” 

“Oh,” Louis says, and shakes his head. “Was just wondering,” he explains. “Feels like I’ve only ever known you as someone engaged, now it’s… odd. You’re not.”

“I’ve not been engaged for months,” he reminds him gently.

“Yeah, but I was with Niall. S’different now.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not looking at him. “Suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” He bites his lip. “So you’re not against moving in with someone quickly, then.”

Oh. _Oh_. Liam widens his eyes a fraction. “Not necessarily, no.”

“So if you were hypothetically dating someone who’d been madly in love with you for years, you wouldn’t think too badly of him if he asked you to move into his flat with him? Even if you’ve only been dating him for a few days?” Louis won’t look up, all his focus on his water glass.

“I wouldn’t think badly of him at all,” Liam says, voice shaky. “I wouldn’t do it, though.”

He frowns, whipping his head up. “Why?”

“Well, in this hypothetical scenario the person who’d been in love with me would have flatmates,” he murmurs. “I’d have to think very hard about it, and I suppose…” He reaches out to Louis, threading their fingers together and keeping his eye contact. “I suppose I’d have to ask them to move in with me.”

Louis’ eyes are wide. “You’re not just going along with this as a joke, are you?”

Liam shakes his head. “I’d never do that.”

“You want to live with me?”

He smiles, wide. “Louis, of course I do.”

“You want me to move in?”

He nods, fast, laughing through his breaths. “A hundred percent. Whenever you want.”

“Tonight,” Louis says, fast. “Or — not tonight, if you don’t want. Just know that if you did want to, ah, tonight, that I would be down.”

He grins wide enough that it hurts. “Tonight. We’ll go pick your stuff up after dinner.”

Louis shakes his head, looking dumbfounded. “You’re amazing,” he breathes.

He shrugs, blushing. “I’ve wanted you just as long,” he whispers. “I did it all wrong the first time but — I do. I want to live with you. I want everything.”

Louis nods, squeezing his hands. “Everything,” he promises.

*

As soon as they get into Louis’ flat, he pushes him up against the wall next to the door, kissing him hard. “I’m moving out,” he whispers.

“Your poor flatmates,” he breathes. “Hang on. Don’t you have to give notice that you’re moving out, or something?”

He waves a hand. “I’ll give ‘em next month’s rent. That’s quite enough time to find a new flatmate.”

He shakes his head, laughing, breathless. “That’s such a waste. You should just live here and —” He cuts himself off when Louis kisses his neck, sighing out, gentle. “Never mind,” he whispers. “Fuck, I’ll pay your rent if you’ll just move in with me.”

Louis laughs, wicked, against him. “That’s all I have to do to get what I want?” he murmurs.

Liam nods, kissing him again and pushing him away so they can go into his bedroom. “Yeah. Now grab the stuff you’re going to need and we can go back to mine,” he says, voice pitched low without him meaning it to be.

Louis walks backwards, holding onto Liam’s hand. “Or,” he says, “you could just fuck me here.”

The television volume coming from one of the bedrooms goes up. 

Liam raises an eyebrow. “Come on,” he says. “Hurry up and pack.” He kisses the back of Louis’ neck, pushing him forward.

Louis pulls out a duffel bag from under his bed and goes through his dresser quickly, throwing things indiscriminately into his bag. “I’ll get the rest of it later,” he says. “Just enough to last me a couple of weeks, and then I’ll come back and Stan won’t hit me for leaving them without a flatmate.”

Liam shakes his head, but he can’t help a laugh. “Whatever you want.”

“You,” Louis says, looking up at him as he tosses more shirts into the bag. They miss the mark and Liam helpfully walks forward, folding them and putting them back inside. “I want _you_.”

“I know,” Liam says, kissing him quickly. “You, too. Here—just give me your things and I’ll fold them, you’re going to run out of room.”

Louis grins. “Dating you already has its perks,” he says, sitting down on the bed and watching Liam work. 

Liam raises an eyebrow. “This is the first one?”

“Well, beyond the obvious,” Louis says, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Come on, Liam, you know I adore you. This is just, like, _extra_ lovely.”

Liam laughs and zips the bag shut, holding out his empty hand to take Louis’. “Do you need anything else?” 

“Yes,” Louis says, and crawls over his bed to grab the giant plaque that says _One Direction Maps_ on it. Louis’ written his own name underneath in chalk. 

Liam’s not sure how he missed it before — but as soon as Louis smirks at him, grabbing his hand, he remembers. He’d been more than a bit overwhelmed. “ _Why_ do you have that,” he sighs. It’s not really a question.

“Louis was being a tit,” Louis says, drawing out the -s in the name. “He made me stay late like four days in a row, just because in his words I wasn’t ‘doing my job to full capacity’.” He makes air quotes with the hand that’s holding onto Liam’s. “So I stole it. He had to replace it, too, it was great.”

Liam frowns. “That’s not going up in our bedroom,” he says, stopping Louis in the living room.

“Yes, it is,” Louis insists. 

“It’s horrible. Also, I’d rather not have think about work while we’re shagging?” 

Louis is undeterred. “It’s a part of me. The plaque comes or I stay.” He tries to glare at Liam.

Liam’s well aware that Louis is joking, but the idea that he might not be is enough to get him to say, “Fine. It can go up in the closet,” with a long-suffering sigh. 

“Over the bed!” Louis insists, dragging him out of the flat and down the stairs. Liam nearly falls over, but Louis barely seems to notice. “We can put lights around it, you know, and then even if you won’t fuck me at work —”

Liam cuts him off with a kiss. It’s the quickest way he knows to get Louis to shut up, and it’s not exactly something Liam himself minds. 

“We can talk about it later,” Louis says into the kiss, grinning so wide it must hurt. 

Liam can’t help but laugh. “Fine.” He tosses the bag into the back of the car and gets in, waiting for Louis. 

“I could add your name to it, if it would help,” Louis says, buckling himself in. “Like. ‘Liam and Louis’ bachelor pad!’ or something like that.”

“But it isn’t a bachelor pad,” Liam says, wrinkling his nose and pulling out of Louis’ drive, heading to his—their—flat. “It’s our place.”

“Until we get a house,” Louis says, looking out the window. 

Liam turns his head so fast his neck hurts. “What?”

Louis shrugs, turning back to him. “I mean. We’re living together now, and I know you lived in a flat with Dan, but it’s not really big enough, is it?” He takes his hand, resting both of them on the console between the seats. “Not for, like, forever.” 

“Right,” Liam says. He smiles, not letting go of Louis’ hand until they get back to his. He gets out and grabs the duffel, hoisting it over his shoulder and fumbling in his pocket for his keys. 

“I’ve got it,” Louis says, grabbing them out of his hand and kissing his cheek. “You grab the sign, I’ll open the door.” 

Liam grumbles a bit, but he obediently goes back to the car and grabs it as well. It takes him a minute to get to the door; both of the things are heavy and he stumbles, almost falling. 

“You know, it’s really polite to open the door when someone’s got both their hands full!” he calls into the flat. He sets the bag aside and pulls the keys out from where Louis has left them in the door. “Also, please try not to _ask_ people to rob our house,” he says, jingling the keys.

Louis is silent. 

Liam frowns and sets the keys in the little bowl next to the door. “Lou?”

“Come—here,” comes Louis’ voice from Liam’s bedroom. He sounds strained. 

He heads to the bedroom and freezes in the door. 

Louis is naked, already, knees up and legs spread, one hand around his cock and the other teasing himself, slick with lube. “Sorry, you were taking so long I decided to get started without you,” he breathes, tilting his head back and moaning in a high, exaggerated voice. 

Liam takes off his shirt without unbuttoning it, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. He kicks off his shoes and gets out of his trousers as quickly as he can. He leaves his pants on and crawls over to Louis, kissing him and pushing his hand away from his cock. “Lube,” he says, holding out his own hand. 

Louis hands it over, eyes wide and dark. 

Liam kisses him as he slicks up his own fingers, the first two, and he holds his hips still as he teases around his hole. “Fuck,” he whispers, pushing the first inside to the knuckle.

Louis moans, trying to fuck his hips down. 

“Stay still,” Liam says firmly. 

Louis goes still and stares at him, nodding. “Okay,” he murmurs. 

Liam trails kisses down his jaw to his neck, biting at a bite he’d left there a few nights ago. He fucks his first finger in and out of him, careful not to hurt him.

Louis groans, trying to move his hips where Liam’s keeping them still. “Come _on_ ,” he breathes. “I can do more, fuck, Liam, please.” 

“Stay _still_ ,” Liam repeats, holding his hip tighter, but he presses another finger inside, less careful this time.

Louis sighs and arches his neck, giving Liam better access. He tries to get a hand around Liam’s cock and frowns at the boxers. “Get these off,” he whines.

“I’m a little occupied,” Liam says as calmly as he can (which, if he’s honest, is not at all). He crooks his fingers up, and Louis _whines_ , nodding fast and fucking his hips down when Liam’s relaxed his grip. 

“More,” he breathes, and Liam doesn’t bother arguing, fucks him with three fingers until Louis is a shaking, panting mess. 

“Please,” he gets out. “Liam, please, need you.” Neither of them have touched his cock since Liam knocked his hand away and he’s shaking, cock hard and wet at the tip.

Liam can’t keep in a moan and he nods, pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the sheets, getting out of his pants as quickly as possible. He grabs a condom out of the box he keeps in his dresser and rolls it on, lining himself up and kissing Louis again, careful.

“Fuck me,” Louis mumbles against his mouth. 

Liam nods, and pushes in, less slowly than he’d like but more quickly than he wants. He moans, dropping his head forward against Louis’ shoulder as he does. He takes a long, steadying breath when he’s bottomed out, heart racing.

“Move, please,” Louis says, desperation at the edge of his voice. “Liam.” 

Liam fucks slowly at first, and then faster, and there’s no room in his mind for anything but how tight Louis is around him, how he gets his arms around his back and digs his nails in just a bit, begging right in Liam’s ear. 

“Please, touch me,” Louis whines, hips fucking back against Liam, arching his back up so that his cock rubs against Liam’s stomach. “I’m close, just need you to touch me.” 

Liam gets a hand around him and strokes quick, hard. He bites Louis’ shoulder to calm himself when he’s about to come himself and Louis shouts, tripping over into Liam’s name as he comes, spilling over his own stomach and Liam’s hand. 

Liam watches him, lips parted, and he only manages a few more thrusts until he’s coming himself, heart pounding and lips pressed against the mark on Louis’ shoulder. 

He rolls over onto his side and gets the condom off, dropping it into the bin in his bed. He hands the tissues to Louis without a word, staring at the ceiling, still breathing fast. 

“Liam?” Louis asks after a minute, when he’s wiped himself down and tossed the tissues nowhere near the bin. He sounds a bit worried. 

Liam kisses him, hand on his cheek, gentle. 

Louis smiles and kisses him back. “You all right?” he asks quietly. 

Liam nods, kissing the corner of his mouth, sleep tugging at his eyelids. “Tired,” he mumbles. “Love you.” 

Louis laughs and kisses Liam’s hair, pulling the blanket up and over them and getting Liam onto his side, wrapping himself around him. “Me, too,” he murmurs against Liam’s neck. “Love you.” 

Liam smiles. It doesn’t take long at all for him to drift off.

* 

“Looooooouis!” Harry whines.

Liam looks up from Nick’s schedule where Nick’s insisted he has to have two more hours a day off for yoga, (Harry’s idea, apparently, though Liam’s pretty sure Harry’s idea of yoga is just shagging Nick in all sorts of weird positions). 

“Yeah?” Louis asks. 

He leans over his desk. “The Stylin’ Styles Inn is doing terribly,” he moans.

Louis stifles a giggle. “That’s your, ah, banana farm?”

“We grow kumquat, too,” he says sadly. “We’ve not been getting any business lately because no one wants to see how bananas are grown, apparently.” He rolls his eyes. “We have a greenhouse and everything! You know, I read somewhere that plants won’t grow if they don’t have human attention and I just can’t give them that with all the focus I give to my work.”

Louis snorts. “What d’you want me to do about that?” 

“Do you have any friends who might want to stay a few nights?” Harry asks. “We’ve just renovated the rooms and we’ve even got WiFi now!” He grins, wide and happy.

An idea flicks in Liam’s brain. Behind Harry, Liam can see Louis making throat-slashing motions, but that doesn’t stop him. They’ll both love it, he’s sure of it. “Why don’t Louis and I come stay?” he asks from his desk. 

Harry’s grin only gets bigger. “You want to? Really?” He turns around to look between the two of them, eyes wide. “I’ll give you guys the best room in the whole building, I promise. It’s only three flights of stairs and we finally fixed the broken one so now our cat only falls, like, once a month at most.”

Liam blinks. “Are we going to fall?”

He waves a hand. “Nah. And anyway, the hole’s not big enough to do any real damage.” He claps, actually fucking _claps_ , humming as he goes back to his work. 

Louis is glaring at him.

Liam gets up and walks over to him, hopping up on the desk. “I love you,” he murmurs.

“I hate you.”

“You absolutely don’t.”

“Yes, I do! This isn’t fair to any of us. You’re just doing it out of pity!” he hisses when Harry goes off to the kitchens, humming.

“Look. I think it’ll be fun, genuinely. And I stayed there a few nights after Dani and I split, it’s really not that bad. I’m excited to see the residential bit,” he says with a wide grin.

Louis sighs, fixing him with a look. “Someone’s gonna kill us in the middle of the night,” he says.

“Love yoooou,” he says, dragging it out, kissing his forehead. “And you love me so you’ll definitely, one hundred percent, come. Right?”

Louis shakes his head, laughing. He squeezes Liam’s knee. “Course I will.” 

Liam smiles, kissing him gently. “Thank you,” he whispers.

*

It’s not until they actually get to Harry’s farm, on Friday evening, that Liam begins to suspect that this might not be the best idea. It’s been raining on-and-off for the past two days, so the parking lot (which is really more of a patch of dirt-turned-mud) is flooded and muddy.

“We can leave,” Louis says, hand on the door handle. “We can get out of here and Harry’ll never know. Tell him your mum died.”

“Hey,” Liam says. “Why’s it gotta be my mum?”

“Because he’s met mine,” he says, with the tone of the irritated. “He’s never met yours.”

“And when he does meet her?”

Louis fixes him with a look. “When is Harry ever gonna meet your mum?”

“Dunno,” he murmurs, going pink. “Next time there’s a big event where my family’s there along with all my friends.” He stares at Louis, waiting for it to click.

“What, you mean, like — a wedding?” he asks, voice tight.

Liam shrugs. Outside, the rain picks up, but he doesn’t flinch, not moving his gaze. “Yeah. Like a wedding.”

Louis blinks fast. “Your wedding?”

He nods, biting his lip. “Yeah. I mean — that’s the endgame, isn’t it? Marrying you?”

“Right,” he breathes. “Hang on.” He undoes his seatbelt and leans over to kiss him, hand on his cheek. “I love you,” he whispers.

“This doesn’t count as a proposal,” Liam murmurs. “This is possibly the least romantic way I could have done it, if it were.”

Louis laughs. “I wouldn’t mind,” he admits. “But — yeah. Okay. You’ve got to properly woo me if you expect to marry me, Payne.”

Liam laughs, and finally looks out the window. “Think this is a good start, yeah? Dead romantic.”

“Oh, yeah. We should just elope right here, it’s so sweet,” Louis says, wrinkling his nose as he looks out the window. He looks at Liam. “Count of three?”

Liam nods, popping the trunk. “One, two, _three_ ,” and both of them open their doors and run to grab their suitcases, sloshing through the mud.

“You owe me new shoes!” Louis says as they run up the steps.

“I’m pretty sure Harry has a shoe-cleaning thing going on,” Liam murmurs. “Could just ask him.”

Louis rolls his eyes, shoving at him when they get up the stairs. He shakes his head, fast enough that water flies everywhere. “Dibs on first shower.”

Liam pouts as he lets them in. “Awwww.”

“Or you could get your own room,” Louis teases, hand on his back. He kisses him, quick.

“We don’t allow any PDA here, either,” comes Nick’s voice from across the room.

Louis shudders. “I thought I was rid of him,” he whispers. “I forgot, he practically lives here.”

“Not practically,” Harry says seemingly out of nowhere, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “He moved in ages ago.” He grins at them. “Welcome to the Stylin’ Styles Inn!” he says, delighted. “I hope you enjoyed your journey. We do offer laundry cleaning services as well as shoe maintenance.” He eyes Louis’ shoes. “Especially on particularly rainy days, considering we don’t have pavement.”

Liam frowns. “Why?”

“It’s part of our charm!”

“But you could have pavement, and then you wouldn’t have to wash anyone’s shoes.”

He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t do that. And George doesn’t mind.” He nods toward a kid who looks like a mini-me version of him, all wide eyes and curly hair and dimples. “He says he prefers it to tending to the farm.” He shakes his head sadly. “Kids.”

There’s a bit of an awkward pause before Louis says, “Right. So our room?”

“Oh!” Harry nods fast, flipping through a calendar. “Right. That should be ready for you. I’ve got it all set up, you guys’ll love it.”

Liam grins at Louis, taking his hand. “We probably won’t get murdered,” he whispers as softly as he can. “You can rest easy.”

Louis rolls his eyes, shoving at him. “That’s what they always say right before the murder!” He nearly trips on a stair going up and glares at Liam as though to say, _see?_.

Liam rolls his eyes, dragging him along.

The room isn’t what Liam’s expecting. It’s dark, for one thing. “There used to be more lights, but we don’t nail anything down and people keep taking things,” Harry says by way of explanation. “Sorry about that. The curtains work, though, and if you need more light after dark you can come talk to me or Nick or George and we’ll get you another lamp from another room.”

“What if the other room needs it, though?” Louis asks.

Harry stares at him. “Why would it? I don’t think rooms get, like, lonely or whatever.”

“I mean the occupants.”

“Well, we’ve never had it be full,” he says diplomatically. “There’s always at least one empty room.” He says it brightly, but Liam can hear the sadness beneath it. He frowns at Louis.

“If that’s it, then,” Harry murmurs, smiling at them and gesturing. “Er, do you guys want to tour the greenhouse?” He looks at them hopefully, but as though he’s trying to hide it.

Liam grins. “Absolutely,” he says, delighted.

“Do you have rain clothes?” he asks, eyeing them both.

“Uh. No,” Louis says. He wrinkles his nose.

Harry grins. “I’ve got stuff you could borrow. Might be big on you, Lou,” he says, and laughs. “But it’ll be worth it, I promise. The greenhouse is always a highlight of the tour for everyone.”

“Tour?” Louis asks faintly, following Harry downstairs.

“Oh, sure. We do all sorts of things at the Stylin’ Styles Inn,” Harry says.

“Please stop calling it that,” Louis murmurs under his breath.

“I absolutely will not,” Harry tells him, turning around to glare. “And watch your step,” he adds as Louis nearly trips. Liam catches him at the last second.

He leads them to his bedroom, opening his closet with a flourish. He hands them two outfits right away, and gives both of them an encouraging smile before leaving. “I’ll be right outside the door, please don’t look in any of the drawers!” he calls.

Liam gets dressed quickly, buttoning up the shirt all the way. It’s definitely something Harry’s worn before, but he barely recognises it when it’s not paired with a terrible scarf and unbuttoned down to his belly button. He tugs on the trousers next, sucking in a breath. “Harry’s tiny,” he says, voice strained. He looks up at Louis, who’s staring at him — or, well, the way his dick looks in the jeans.

“I know farmer isn’t really a sexy look,” Louis says. “But you look really good in plaid,” and that’s all the warning he gets before Louis kisses him, hard, hands on his arms. He hasn’t done up his flies or buttoned his shirt and Liam takes the chance to get his hands on his chest, sighing when he feels Louis’ heart pick up speed.

“You look good, too,” he murmurs, buttoning it up. His voice comes out breathy, strained.

“We’re never telling Harry about this,” Louis says. “He’ll never let us live it down.”

“Too late!” comes Harry’s gleeful voice, more of a cackle than anything else.

Louis groans, loud. He fixes his hair in the mirror and goes out to Harry. “Thank you for lending us the clothes,” he says, smiling.

Harry nods, grinning at the two of them. “You look like me!” he says, delighted. “Hang on, Nick’s gotta see this. Nick!” he shouts, going down the stairs too fast. “Come look at these two, they look amazing!”

Nick looks up from his laptop and snickers, adjusting his glasses. “You look like idiots,” he says, laughing open-mouthed.

Harry pouts. “Are you saying _I_ look like an idiot?” he asks, climbing into Nick’s lap.

“Of course not, love,” he murmurs, kissing his forehead. “You look amazing all the time, but you can pull the whole farmer thing off.” He waves his hands as though in explanation. “You know?”

Harry nods, seemingly mollified. “Thank you,” he says stiffly. He adjusts so he’s more firmly in Nick’s lap, arms around him.

Nick kisses his cheek. “Aren’t you showing them the garden?”

“Right!” Harry gets up, grinning. “Bananas!” He gets up and goes into the closet, handing all three of them rain boots and an umbrella. “Unless you want to get wet,” he murmurs. “Which, like, no judgment but that might not be the best thing. I don’t want either of you to get sick.” He frowns.

Liam, a little bit baffled, takes the umbrella and the boots. “All this for bananas?” he says out loud. He instantly regrets it.

Harry’s face does a lot of things. “Well, yeah! They’re like my children! Like how you guys are all Nick’s children, but not me, because he likes sleeping with me too much and apparently incest is where he draws his line.” He waves a hand. “Anyway. Come on, come on! We’re missing valuable daylight! Also, I’ve got to start dinner in like 45 minutes.”

Louis widens his eyes. “And this is gonna take that long?”

“Well, yeah. We’ve got to talk to the plants,” Liam tells him, as though it should be obvious.

Harry grins, wide. “I knew there was a reason you were my favorite.” 

“Oi!”

“Except for Nick.” 

Harry narrates their trip to the greenhouse. At least, that’s what Liam thinks he’s doing; it’s raining hard enough and he and Louis are pressed close and he can’t really hear anything above the sound of the rain hitting their umbrella. Harry keeps gesturing at things, though, with wide-eyed excitement, so Liam nods at him encouragingly. He likes to keep Harry happy; he gets stressed fairly easily, these days.

He throws open the doors to the greenhouse. “Look! We’ve got twelve different breeds — I’ve got a certificate in genetic engineering of plants, dunno if I’ve told you that — and they’re all doing well! Last year they all died by this time, but now I think I might be able to make banana pudding in a few months!”

“All right,” Louis says, still holding onto Liam’s hand. “I have to ask, I’m sorry, Harry. Why don’t you just buy bananas from the store?”

He shrugs. “Cheaper to make my own.”

“But if you’re genetically engineering them and making batch after batch that all die, wouldn’t that mean they’re more expensive?”

Harry sighs, shoulders slumping forward. “You’ve been talking to Nick, haven’t you?”

Louis blinks. “I try not to talk to Nick at all, if I can help it,” he murmurs, frowning over at Liam.

Harry waves a hand. “Nick doesn’t believe in it either, says it’s a waste of money. Least he’s stopped really arguing with me about it, though.”

Liam shifts from foot to foot awkwardly. “Sorry,” he mumbles. He reaches out to give a friendly pat to Harry’s shoulder.

“Oh, it’s all right,” Harry says, shrugging. He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m gonna show everyone, though, when I finally get a damn crop to work. You’ll all be expecting the pudding to be terrible again, but it’ll be great and then you’ll all be sorry when I don’t share it with you anymore.” He pauses. “Except for you, Liam. You’ve always been so, so encouraging.”

Louis snorts. Liam nudges him hard with his elbow to shut him up. “Thanks, Harry,” he murmurs. “Really, it’s no trouble at all.” He feels guilty, but he hasn’t ever wanted to discourage Harry. He’s sat through some truly terrible batches of bananas that way; he deserves it, if Harry’s ever going to make one work. (A pretty big “if”, Liam’s aware, but.)

Harry walks them through slowly. He points out the different breeds and the things he’s named them — “That one’s my favorite, her name is Elsie,” he says of a particularly hearty plant — and by the end of the tour, Liam’s pretty relaxed. The sound of the rain is soothing and it’s nice, walking through the greenhouse with his arm around Louis.

An alarm goes off and Harry jumps, looking at his wrist. “Right,” he murmurs, running a hand through his hair again. “I’ve got to be off, but you guys can stay if you want.”

“Nah,” Liam says, squeezing Louis’ waist. “Think we’ll head back with you. I’d like to take a shower and stuff, y’know.”

Harry nods, smiling at them. “You know, you guys are the first ones from work to ever come here?” He asks, soft. “I mean, other than Nick, obviously, but he hardly counts.” He bites his lip. “I really, really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Liam murmurs, smiling at him. “We just want to support you. Right, Lou?”

Louis looks up from where he’s been staring at his and Liam’s joined hands. “Yeah,” he murmurs, shaking himself out of whatever he’d been thinking about. “We’d love to support you, Haz.”

He grins wide enough that his cheeks dimple. “Thank you so much,” he murmurs, hugging the both of them hard. He frowns at the outside, opening his umbrella again. “Let’s go!” He shouts.

* 

“I still call dibs on first shower!” Louis calls when they get into their room. He strips off Harry’s clothes, frowning down at them. “How come I don’t look as good as you in them?” he asks, shaking his head. “Don’t look as good as you in _anything_. Really, it’s incredibly unfair, Liam.”

Liam shakes his head, kissing Louis’s forehead. “You always look amazing and I think we should share a shower,” he murmurs.

Louis shivers. “You really want to? In Harry’s place?”

Liam rolls his eyes. “It’s not like he’ll _know_ ,” he says.

“I mean, I’m not complaining. I’m always up for shagging you,” Louis says, unbuttoning Liam’s flannel, slow, biting his lip. “Thought you’d be more refined, though. Classier.”

Liam snorts. “Not when it comes to you,” he murmurs.

“Sweet talker.”

“Always.”

They make it into the shower and Louis smiles, pressing Liam up against the wall and kissing him gentle, almost chaste. The water’s not hot, exactly, but it’s comfortable, and Liam rolls his shoulders, relaxing under the spray.

Louis runs his hands down Liam’s back, biting his lip. “You’re so _tense_ ,” he breathes. “Dunno what’s wrong with you, you seem really relaxed all the time.”

“I am,” he says honestly. “Think I’m just a naturally tense person. Maybe I still haven’t worked out all the knots from when I was with Dan, I dunno.”

Louis shakes his head, kissing him again, still rubbing his back. “I’ll fix it later,” he murmurs. “Give you a proper back rub and make you feel better, yeah?”

Liam shivers, nodding. “Thanks,” he whispers, and watches as Louis steps back to get under the spray, washing his hair quickly. He stares at the water tracing down his stomach, and swallows hard. He’s never going to get sick of this, finally being able to have him whenever he wants.

Before Louis can grab the conditioner, Liam grabs his waist and goes close, kissing him again. He nips at Louis’ lower lip, smiling. “You’re so lovely,” he whispers. “So fit.”

Louis shivers. “This is a waste of water, Mr. Payne,” he breathes. “What would your mum think?”

Liam snorts, pressing his face to Louis’ chest. “And there go your chances of getting a blowjob in the shower,” he murmurs.

Louis gasps. “Liam, I never would have thought you’d be so dirty,” he says, breathy as Liam nips at his neck, sucking sharp. “I thought, of the two of us, you were definitely the more responsible.”

“Sex isn’t irresponsible,” he says, snorting. “And you’re an idiot. So you know.”

Louis grins, stepping under the spray again so he can grab the conditioner. “And you’re the one who loves me.”

Liam smiles, wide. He can’t help it. “Guess I do.”

* 

“Cheesy game time,” Louis says when Liam’s getting into bed, pulling a top on. It’s too cold for them to sleep naked, they’d sadly discovered. And, anyway, Liam’s not sure he’d want to sleep naked in a place where Harry has a key ready and available.

Liam looks up from his phone. His mum’s been texting him nonstop since he told her about Louis. He’s been trying to bring up the whole ‘meet the family’ thing to him but he’s not sure how. “Yeah? What’s that?”

Louis crawls over to him on the bed, smiling. He kisses Liam, quick. “When did you know you had a thing for me?”

Liam frowns. “A thing for you? I told you, like, a year and a half ago?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. What was your _moment_?”

“My moment?”

“Stop repeating everything I say!” Louis shouts. He turns over, giving Liam a look. “The moment you knew you had a thing for me.”

“Oh,” he says. He grins. “You want us to be all cute and romantic,” he says, absolutely delighted.

Louis wrinkles his nose. “I do not.”

“You _do_. You want me to get all starry-eyed and talk about how wonderful you are.”

He shoves him. “Never mind.”

Liam laughs, kissing his shoulder and throwing an arm over his stomach. “No, no, I got it. I’ll tell you.”

Louis wiggles so he’s wrapped up by Liam. “Good.”

He bites his lip, thinking back. “It’s dumb,” he warns.

“As I expected.”

He shoves him. “I’m not gonna tell you if you’re just gonna mock,” he warns.

Louis snorts. “Fine, fine. Just tell me.”

He pauses, pressing his lips together. “It was — fuck. Okay, you know how you used to always be super friendly to me? Like — it felt like more than everyone else, sometimes. The first time Dani left, after I started here, I was really sad and you noticed. You’d said, ‘hey, everyone, want to go out tonight?’ And I knew it wasn’t about me, but I really wanted it to be and that was when I knew.” He goes bright red, hiding his face against Louis’ back.

Louis goes still for a long minute. He turns around, wiggling in Liam’s arms until they’re facing one another. “Hang on. You knew you liked me because you wanted me to invite you somewhere?”

Liam shrugs, not looking at him. “Sort of.”

“That’s incredibly boring and a little bit sad,” he says bluntly.

Liam frowns at him. “It is what it is,” he says, staring at Louis’ tattoo.

Louis wrinkles his nose. “Can’t it be something better? One of the times I was actually trying to flirt with you?”

Liam raises an eyebrow. “Like?”

“The thousands of times I offered to take you back to mine, for one,” he says, shrugging. “Or when I wanted just us to go out. Or offered to go out to lunch with you so you wouldn’t be alone.” He pauses. “When I invited you to stay the night at mine.” 

He goes red. “I… didn’t think you were flirting. Thought you were just friendly.”

“Absurdly friendly, apparently,” Louis grumbles.

Liam goes redder and nudges him. “What about you, then? When did you know?”

“Christmas that first year,” he says easily. “At the party. Harry was talking about circumcision and you said you weren’t circumcised and I thought ‘ah, yes, I want my mouth on that dick’.” He keeps his face perfectly calm.

Liam’s eyes go wide. “Uh.” He doesn’t even remember saying that, fuck.

Louis snorts. “I’m teasing. You did say that, but that wasn’t it. Nah, I knew as soon as I saw you. You were really lovely and nice. iIt was a good couple weeks before I found out about Danielle.” He smiles, small.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “You’ve got me now, though. You’ve had me for a while.”

He nods, kissing Liam, gentle. “I do.” He pauses, laughing shakily. “Not the last time I’m gonna say that, is it?”

Liam doesn’t answer, rolling them so Louis is on his back, Liam over him. He kisses him, gentle but thorough, smiling into it.

They don’t do much, just lying there kissing until Harry shouts up the stairs “Dinner!” with the help of a particularly loud bell.

Liam pulls back, gasping a bit.

Louis’ chest is heaving. “Do we have to?” He asks, voice hoarse.

God. If Harry were anyone else, Liam would say no, but — “Yeah,” he grumbles. “We do. Later, though, we’re locking the door.”

Louis grins, getting up. He wraps an arm around him. “When we get married, we’re taking my name,” he says, kissing his cheek, and walks off before Liam can argue.

Liam fights a smile, following him.

*

They leave two days later, and Louis drops to his knee next to him. 

Oh, god. Liam swallows. “Louis —”

“Liam Payne,” Louis says, very seriously. “Will you do something for me?” 

Liam nods, slow. 

“Will you take this so I can tie my shoe?” He asks, holding out his bag, and bursts into laughter. 

Liam takes the bag but keeps walking. “I’ll leave you here!” He shouts. 

Louis catches up to him. “Oh, did you think I was going to propose?” He asks, breathless. 

“How could I have,” he says dryly. “Really, I’m reading too much into it.”

Louis grins and kisses him, hard. “Soon,” he murmurs, like a promise, and takes his bag back. 

Liam shakes his head, heart pounding, and follows him. 

*

Liam’s in the middle of a conversation with Nick when his phone buzzes in his pocket. His hand twitches toward it, but at the last second he catches himself.

Nick sighs. “Go ahead and read it,” he says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “If it’s your new love or whatever.” He shakes his head at Liam. “I’m still upset at you for betraying me the way you did. How could you _do_ that?”

Liam doesn’t even try to answer, just gives a noncommittal little shrug and pulls his phone out.

 _Harry_ 15:42

_hey drinks tonight?_

He frowns down at it for a bit, not comprehending.

Nick chuckles. “Things not quite all right in the Payne household?” he asks knowingly.

“No,” Liam says. “It’s your boyfriend, actually.”

“What?” Nick asks, and reaches his hand out for Liam’s phone.

He could refuse. Louis would refuse, he knows, and Louis is always trying to convince Liam to be better at telling people no when they demand things of him ( _everyone but me, Liam, darling!_ he’d been sure to add) but then Nick will get that awful sad face and possibly pretend to fire him again, and he doesn’t want that. He hands his phone over.

Nick frowns down at the message.

“I don’t think he was asking me out,” Liam says, shifting in his chair. “Um. If that helps.”

His expression doesn’t change. “Harry!” he shouts.

Harry comes bounding in, grin falling off his face when he sees Liam. “What?” he asks.

Nick holds out Liam’s phone.

Harry bites his lip, looking between them. “Uh,” he says. “This is a bit awkward.”

“Harold!” Nick says, affronted. “Were you trying to seduce our receptionist? And the boyfriend of the least-loved employee here?”

“Hey!” Louis shouts from the main office.

Everyone ignores it.

“No,” Harry says. “I just thought it’d be better to do it away from here.”

Nick scoffs. “To do _what_?”

“I have a business proposition for him.” He barely mumbles it.

Nick stares at Harry. Liam looks between the two of them and, quickly as he can, grabs his phone back and rushes out of Nick’s office, shutting the door tight behind him.

“What’s going on?” Louis whispers, looking at Liam.

Liam shrugs, leaning against his desk. “Harry asked me out,” he says.

Louis snorts.

Liam hands over his phone. “I’m not kidding! Says he has a business proposition for me.”

“If he asks you to become a prostitute, don’t knock it at the first thought,” Louis says. “You could make us quite a bit of money, Mr. Payne, and that could be well-spent.”

Liam shakes his head, bending down to kiss him. “You’d be furious,” he says, but he’s secretly a bit delighted.

“Well, yeah,” Louis murmurs, kissing him again gently. “But see how much you can get, you know? Worth a shot.”

Liam shoves at him. As he’s doing it, Harry bursts out of the office, door banging against the wall.

“Oh, for the love of god,” Nick says, terse.

“Will you do something for me?” Harry asks, looking at Liam a bit wide-eyed. “I had a whole business proposition, a plan, but Nick says it’s best to do it here instead.”

“I didn’t mean in front of everyone!” Nick cries indignantly.

Harry flaps a hand behind him, still looking at Liam.

“Um,” Liam says. “Sure.”

Harry takes a breath. “So. You know my inn isn’t doing that well this year.”

“Right,” Liam says, nodding. “I do know that.”

“And you know that you used to, dunno if you do anymore, but you used to want to teach music.”

Liam’s eyes narrow a bit in focus. “Yeah,” he says slowly.

“D’you think you’d want to teach music to some kids? It could be done in the greenhouses,” he says, excited. “That way I wouldn’t have to give so much time to each individual plant and they’d be getting music, which every real farmer knows is better than talking to them. They love art,” he says, fond.

Liam opens his mouth, but Harry cuts him off.

“Just do a trial run at first?” he asks, pleading. “I really need something that’s going to boost visitors and I think you could do that.”

“He’d love to,” Louis says before Liam can get a word in. He turns to give him a look, but Louis is smiling fondly at Harry and he keeps his mouth shut.

“Really?” Harry asks quietly, grin wide and blinding. He looks at Liam, who nods. “Oh, god, thank you so much. I thought I’d have to get you drunk before you’d agree – not that I would have taken it seriously, I’m not someone who thinks businesses are agreed upon with the help of alcohol, but it might’ve helped later.” He hugs Liam hard, kissing his shoulder over and over. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

Liam rubs his back. “I’m not sure how it would work,” he says slowly. “Also, what kids would I be teaching?”

“I know a guy,” Harry says.

Liam pulls back. He and Louis stare at Harry.

“I mean I know a kindergarten teacher!” he says, rolling his eyes. “Christ, the two of you have the worst minds, I swear. Anyway, I talked to him and he said he’d talk to the parents, see if any of them want to get lessons for their kids.”

Liam smiles, slow, thinking about it. It’ll be nice, he thinks, to be able to teach again. It’s what he’d wanted, and this way he can stay here.

He looks over at Louis, who gives Liam a private sort of smile. “It’ll be really good for you,” he says. “You’d hate London anyway.”

It’s an odd echo of what Danielle had said ages ago, but he finds he doesn’t mind. He takes Louis’ hand and holds on tight.

*

Louis comes up to Liam later that night, wrapping his arms around Liam’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “So I may not have been entirely honest earlier.”

“Yeah?” Liam asks mildly, stirring the sauce. “When you told me that you’d definitely not bought that DVD I found under the couch, or when you told Nick you didn’t lose that client?”

“No,” he huffs. “I mean with Harry.”

Liam’s spoon stills. He looks at Louis. “You don’t think I should do it?”

“No, not that.” He pulls back from Liam and leans against the counter, arms crossed almost like he’s self-conscious. “About you hating London.”

“Oh,” Liam says. “I mean, it’s all right. Dan used to say that all the time, that I’d hate it.”

Louis chews on the inside of his cheek, looking down at the ground. “But I don’t know that you would,” he murmurs. “I might’ve said it so you wouldn’t leave me.”

Liam’s heart goes tight and he turns the heat on the sauce off, covering it with the lid. “Louis,” he murmurs, hugging him, rubbing his back. “I wouldn’t.”

“No, I don’t mean forever,” he says, pushing at his shoulder. “You’re never allowed to leave, you’ve gotten me used to a standard number of orgasms I don’t think I could find anywhere else. I just. I didn’t want you to leave even for a few months?” he offers. “And I’m afraid you won’t like teaching at Harry’s more than you won’t like London.”

Liam hums, thinking about it, still rubbing his back. “Possibly,” he murmurs, shrugging. “But possibly I’d hate leaving my boyfriend a million times more.”

Louis relaxes against him, pressing his smile against Liam’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I spent seven years in a never-ending long-distance relationship, I’m not too keen to repeat that.”

“Good,” Louis says emphatically, finally hugging him back. It’s tight enough that the breath gets knocked out of Liam, but he appreciates it all the same. “I’m entirely too dependent on you, I’d miss you too much. Stay with me for always,” he says.

Liam grins. “I can do that,” he says, kissing his nose.

*

“I want a banana!” Joshua shouts.

Liam sighs, trying not to get upset. “You can’t have one, I’m sorry.”

He pouts, nearly throwing his guitar across the room.

“Hey, hey,” Liam murmurs, getting off of his stool and sitting on the ground next to him. “You just can’t have one of these bananas,” he says, nodding around the room, “because they’re really gross.”

Joshua gives him a look. “They smell good.”

“I know, but I’ve had them.”

“ _All_ of them?”

“Yep,” Liam says, pulling his best what-can-you-do face.

“Oh,” Joshua says, eyes going wide.

“But,” he adds, drawing it out, “if you play for just five more minutes we can go inside and ask Harry for some good bananas, okay?”

Joshua seems to consider it for longer than is necessary, but Liam stays where he is, leaning back on his arms. “Okay!” he finally says, shrugging.

“Yeah?” Liam offers him a fistbump, which he does, giggling. “Thanks, mate. Will you go pick up the guitar for me?”

Joshua nods and does, sitting down next to Liam and going over the chords and simple tune again a few more times.

*

“How’d we do?” Harry asks, turning away from his stove. He’s got an apron and a chef’s hat on, and it’s absurdly adorable. Liam manages to cover his snort as a cough. Harry glares at him.

“Banana!” Joshua shouts. “Liam said I could have one if I played well.”

“And did you?” Harry asks, raising both eyebrows.

Joshua gives him a look. “Yes,” he says, as though it should be obvious. “Can I have a banana, please?”

Harry gives him one and Joshua thanks him, running off. “Thanks,” he murmurs to Liam. “Means a lot.”

“I like it,” he says, smiling after him. Joshua’s only his third kid, but it’s easy and nice, being able to play like this. “I’d like to keep doing it. End this trial.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks. “Oh, thank you!” He hugs Liam hard, grinning, probably getting flour all over him.

Liam snorts. “No problem, mate.”

*

Louis hums one evening, tracing patterns on Liam’s chest. “What d’you want to do tonight?” he asks.

“Was thinking just this,” Liam says, shrugging. They’re lying on their new couch, pressed together, the TV on low.

Louis groans. “Liaaaam,” he says, drawing it out.

Liam closes his eyes and rubs at his temples. “Let me guess,” he says, dry. “You want to do something stupid.”

“Not stupid. Just want to go out to a bar.”

Liam looks up at him. He’s grinning. “Why?” he asks.

“All right, just for asking that we’re double going,” he says. He gets off the couch and tugs at Liam’s hand. “Come on! Take me out. Show me some of that famous Payne charm.”

“There isn’t any Payne charm,” Liam grumbles, but he gets cut off by Louis kissing him, hand on his waist. He hums into it.

“Don’t sell yourself so short, Liam!” Louis says, kissing his cheek and pulling him to their bedroom. “Ooh, careful!” he says, pointing at the box Liam trips over every time he comes in here.

“Maybe we should stay in,” he says, grimacing at all of Louis’ things, scattered across the floor. “Actually unpack.”

Louis waves a hand at him. He drops to his knees and rummages through a box, pulling out shirts and tossing them behind him. “Where is it?” he grumbles.

It’s best not to ask what he’s looking for, Liam has learned. He leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching him as he crawls around the room.

“Bed?” Louis asks himself quietly, and dives under there quickly enough Liam’s worried he’ll hurt himself. A second later he cackles, and there’s a loud metallic thump.

“Are you okay?” Liam asks, though he gets drowned out by Louis’ giggles as he comes out from under the bed.

He’s holding a very dusty – oh. Liam goes pink.

“You kept the onesie!” he says, eyes sparkling. “The horrible onesie you yelled at me for!” He walks toward Liam, carrying it.

Liam holds his arms out, doesn’t want to let him get close with it. “It’s all dusty,” he says, pleading. “Come on, wash it first before you—”

Louis throws his arms around him and manages to smack him in the back with the fabric.

Liam grimaces. Now he’s going to have dust all over himself.

“You’re a sap,” Louis says, delighted.

Liam rolls his eyes. “I thought you already knew that.”

“Well, yes, but it’s nice to be reminded. And you’re sappy in so many ways!” He grins. “Everything you do is just – how’s Liam gonna prove his love for me today?” His tone is teasing, but Liam can see he’s actually pleased beneath it.

He takes the onesie from him and tosses it in the clothes hamper. “I’ll throw it away,” he threatens.

Louis pouts. “But I want to see you in it,” he says, sticking out his lower lip and blinking up at him through his lashes. He probably means it to be cute. In effect, it’s pretty ridiculous.

Liam kisses his forehead, trying to muffle his smile.

“I mean it!” he insists, pulling away to look at him, very seriously. “You’ll be proper sexy in it. Wouldn’t be able to see you without ravishing you.”

Liam frowns at him. “In the onesie.”

“Yes.”

His frown deepens. “But –”

“You don’t know my kinks!” Louis yelps, but he’s giggling right after.

Liam rolls his eyes and kisses his head. “I’ll wear the thing if you promise to let me wash it first.”

“But –” Louis sighs, long-suffering. “Fine.”

“That’s it?” he teases. “No argument?”

“Nope,” Louis says, pinching his bum and spinning around, going back to his original box. “Because once I find my shirt you’re gonna take me out to a nice bar and we’ll get delightfully drunk. I’ve never been drunk around you,” he tells him, and evidently finds the shirt he’s looking for, putting it on quickly and buttoning it up. “Who knows what I’m like? Certainly not me. Really, this is an experiment.”

“You don’t have to dress it up,” Liam says, sighing. “We’ll go out. I don’t mind.”

Louis grins and kisses him once, hard, running down the hall. “I’m driving your car!” he shouts, just before the door slams.

Oh, god. Liam’s going to die. He follows, grabbing a jacket for himself and Louis (because Louis always runs cold and demands Liam warm him up, no matter how much he insists he _won’t this time, come on_ ) and heads out. Louis hasn’t locked the door behind him and he does it, pocketing his keys and getting into the car.

Louis is drumming his hands on the wheel, the radio turned up way too high. “Come on!” he shouts as soon as Liam’s in the car. “Want to go out! Find someone to fuck – or, well. Never mind,” he says, winking at Liam.

Liam gets himself buckled and shakes his head, grinning. “You’re gonna kill me,” he says, turning down the radio a bit.

Louis smacks his hand away. “But what a death it’ll be!” he insists, and starts singing along to the radio, still drumming his hands on the wheel.

*

“Liam,” Louis whispers. “I have a secret.”

Liam can’t help his smile. He takes Louis’ hand when he reaches for it, holding it tight. “What’s that, love?” he asks.

Louis shakes his head and pulls his hand away, gets out of his chair and makes his way across the table. “Love you,” he mumbles as he sits down next to Liam, head on his shoulder. He turns and presses his lips against Liam’s neck, biting gently just above the line of his shirt.

Liam looks up, trying not to make a noise. Ed catches his eye and winks. “I already knew you loved me,” he says, getting an arm around Louis so he can rub his back. He’s had less to drink than Louis has but not that much and his hand misses, nearly sends the bowl of peanuts Louis had demanded as soon as they walked in off of the table. He rights it and puts it in the center, finally managing to rub Louis’ back.

“No, but.” He kisses his neck again and pulls away, looking at Liam with wide eyes. “I always love you.”

“I know,” he says. He nods, trying to get Louis to understand. Apparently he’s a sad drunk. Liam’s a little disappointed.

“No,” he says again. “That’s why I never drank.” He tries to crawl into Liam’s lap, keeping his arms tight around his shoulders. He kicks the table and Liam’s eyes go wide, hand around his waist to keep him close.

Across the bar, Ed clears his throat loudly. _Sorry_ , Liam mouths at him.

Louis’ face is buried against Liam’s neck. “Always wanted to kiss you,” he mumbles. “S’why I never drank. Loved you too much. Always loved you too much.”

“Louis,” Liam murmurs.

“Wanted to do this,” he says, shifting so he’s more firmly in Liam’s lap, kissing his neck. “You have any idea how hard it was?” He sounds miserable. “You didn’t want me and all I wanted was you.” 

Liam frowns, feeling almost guilty for making him feel like that. “You’ve got me now, though,” he says. “All yours, I promise.”

“I know,” Louis mumbles. He pauses for a second, hands on Liam’s chest. He sits up, looking at him. “Can we go home?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, kissing him gently, carefully.

Louis pulls him into the flat when they get back, kissing him again, breathing fast and sharp. “Want to get a house with you,” he says, tugging at Liam’s shirt, finally nearly ripping it in his haste to get it off. He drags Liam into the bedroom, pushing him onto the bed. He’s lying on top of a pile of Louis’ shirts but he doesn’t mention it, not when Louis is looking at him like that. 

“A house?” he asks quietly, rubbing his hip. He can imagine it, he and Louis picking out a house. Having a garden. Spare rooms. It keeps surprising him, how many firsts he and Louis have left.

Louis nods. “Can’t raise a family in a flat,” he says quietly, and shifts so he’s off of Liam, on his side facing him. He hums and shifts, wrapping his arm around Liam’s waist.

“A family?” Liam asks faintly.

“Shh,” Louis whispers. “Sleep.” He closes his eyes.

Liam rubs his back, and Louis drifts off.

*

Liam wakes up before Louis and goes for a run. He’s got a tiny hangover, but not as bad as Louis’ will be, he’s sure. It’s nice and cool, just the way he likes it, and by the time he gets back to the flat he’s sweaty and happy.

Louis is sitting at the kitchen table, grumbling into a mug of tea. “You look too happy,” he says, glaring at him. “Go away.”

Liam laughs, going over to him and kissing his cheek.

“Ugh, get off, you’re all sweaty and gross,” he says, pushing at him. Liam’s sure, though, that he can hear Louis being pleased beneath it.

“Nope,” he says, shaking his head and kissing his neck. He pauses, smiling slowly. “So. Do you remember last night?”

“Groping you at Ed’s? Sure,” he says, shrugging. “That’s not the first or last time that’ll happen, I promise.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “You said you wanted to raise a family with me,” he says. “Move into a proper house.”

Louis goes still.

He presses his face against Louis’ neck. “We’d be learning together, from there on out,” he says quietly. “I’ve never bought a house before.”

“Right,” Louis says faintly. He hasn’t moved, is still staring at his mug.

Liam stands up, doesn’t want to overwhelm him too much even if a flustered Louis is adorable. “I’m gonna go shower, yeah?” he asks.

Louis nods, looking up after a second. He puckers his lips out, and Liam rolls his eyes and kisses him.

“Love you,” Louis murmurs.

Liam kisses his forehead as he steps back. “Love you, too.”

*

When he gets out of the shower, he’s almost nervous about talking to Louis about it. They haven’t, really, and Louis was the one to mention it originally but – he was drunk at the time.

“Liam?” Louis calls. His voice sounds strained.

Liam heads toward the kitchen.

“I love you,” he starts.

Liam nods, heading over and sitting next to him. “I love you, too.”

Louis takes his hand, kissing his knuckles. “I meant it,” he says quietly. “Living in a house. Starting a family. Yeah?”

Liam nods, tugging his hand away so he can pull him in by the back of a neck for a proper kiss, hand on his knee. “Yeah,” he murmurs.

They have time to figure it out, he thinks. It had always felt weird, that he and Danielle had pushed everything off, but with Louis it’s nice. He’s not worried about _never_. 

*

They’re at Tesco’s, just a couple of weeks later. Louis is jittery with apparent excitement while Liam pushes the cart. He keeps jumping on the back and shouting, “Faster, Liam!” 

“Calm down,” he murmurs as he walks down the soup aisle, only halfway paying attention to him. “You’re going to crash yourself into one of the aisles and then we’ll have to pay all sorts of damages.” Oh, they’re out of croutons. Louis has taken to eating them directly out of the box lately. He grabs two boxes, because there are things he argues about with Louis and things he doesn’t and this isn’t a battle he wants to have. 

“Right,” Louis says, nodding stiffly. “Yeah.” 

Liam frowns at him but doesn’t argue. Louis will tell him eventually if something’s wrong. 

They’re in the cereal aisle, Liam looking very seriously at the amount of sugar in Cheerios, when Louis drops to his knee next to him. 

Liam’s not proud of the way his heart flips, even though Louis has done this a hundred times since that weekend at Harry’s. He shakes his head, not looking at him. “Should we just go with vanilla-almond?” He asks. He shakes the box.

“Liam,” Louis says, very softly. 

Louis is absolutely not about to propose, he tells himself sternly. He keeps staring at the box, doesn’t want Louis to see how well he’s tricked him this time. He takes a shaky breath. “D’you think,” he murmurs, looking at the prices on the original and off-brand cereal, “they’ll be mad if we don’t get the real one? They can’t be that mad, can they? The cereal men, I mean,” he explains. His heart’s racing.

“Liam,” Louis says again and grabs Liam’s free hand, kissing the tips of his fingers. 

Liam shivers, putting the box back on the shelf. This isn’t fair, Louis isn’t allowed to _do_ this all the time. Liam hasn’t ever thought of himself as being this romantic, wanting to be engaged this much, but Louis makes him stupid and it’s not fair. 

“Love,” Louis says, tugging at his hand, and finally Liam looks over. 

Louis is holding a small box in his free hand, eyes wide and mouth open a bit. He’s shaking, Liam can see. 

Liam’s eyes go wide. “This isn’t allowed to be a joke,” he says, soft, voice barely managing it. “Louis, this isn’t fair, this isn’t —”

“Liam,” Louis murmurs, rubbing his thumb across the back of his hand. “I don’t much care what brand of cereal we get today, so long as it’s you buying it for us for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me? Please?” he asks, opening the ring box with one shaking hand. 

Around them, there’s the squeak of wheels, the low hum of the refrigerators, people talking softly. 

Liam can’t hear anything but Louis. “Yeah,” he whispers, and clears his throat, says it louder. “Yes, please, yes, I’ll marry you. Not a joke,” he says, as Louis gets up and kisses him hard, box still in his hand. 

“Not a joke,” Louis whispers. “Not at all, wanted to marry you since I met you. Forever,” he whispers, taking his hands off of Liam to pull out the ring, sliding it on his finger. 

Liam nods, swallowing hard so he doesn’t start to cry while his back’s flat against a wall of cereal. “Yeah,” he whispers, smiling wide. “Forever.” 

Louis looks happier than Liam’s ever seen him, nosing at Liam’s throat and holding him tight. “I think,” he murmurs, “we can say fuck off to the groceries and go home, yeah? Y’can fuck me, if you want, as we’re engaged now. It’s like a first time, in a way.”

He grins, nodding, taking his hand with his heart racing. “Yes, please,” he says as he tugs him out of the shop. “You’re gonna _marry_ me, fuck.”

“You thought it was a _joke_ ,” Louis says, looking impossibly pleased. “I was so worried you’d know, I was so nervous.”

Liam shakes his head, pressing him up against the car. “Nope,” he murmurs.

Louis grins, getting between Liam’s legs and resting his hands on his hips, kissing his neck. 

Liam tilts his head back and smiles. 

“So,” Louis murmurs. “Are we trying to break your record?”

“Hmm?”

“Three years,” Louis says, and he’s giggling. “We could be engaged for longer, if we tried pretty hard.”

Liam shoves at him, laughing. “You get _one_ year.” 

Louis hums, kissing his pulse point and nipping gently. “All right,” he says. “Suppose I can’t resist marrying you that long, anyway. Just have to make sure it’s worth my while. I can be very demanding, Liam.” He kisses his nose. 

Liam can’t stop laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on twitter @ doinwhatwedo and tumblr @ guillotineheart :)


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